(O nouă predică)

Please, let no one sway your decisions

How long do you think we have left?

I’m nearing 34 and guess by my fifties I’ll light my last cigarette—

I suppose I’m an optimist.

My introspection is based on logic, but not on influence.

When something seems “not the right thing for the right reason,” well, doesn’t it seem off?

If you hear, “you imagined it,” run! Or show that person the door.

If you wander through clubs or dabble in drugs

And can’t find a God as you might outline in the spiritual reflection of existence, well, you’re in a tight spot.

If most things you do are meant to improve your lot, yet things worsen, what’s the solution?

What do you do when you need to pause, to take a closer look at what’s happening with you?

How long will you keep berating and blaming yourself for things beyond your control?

Where does this madness with self-improvement come from,

Or self-love, or the pursuit of money in general,

When most of us can’t even define a state of forbearance?

Sometimes, with particular forbearance towards my own existence—

Hilarious, mysterious, barren, ineffable, I curse in thought, and aloud,

But even more, I turn my attention towards something greater

Than myself.

I’ve long ceased to be what I think, and I don’t live in a world governed by my reason.

The real dilemma is: how long will I be kept plugged in?

For my heart still beats, organs auto-regulate with each blink,

And this ‘me’ plays no specific role in this whole scheme.

It’s hard today, it was hard yesterday.

I expect nothing, I want nothing, I observe.

And when I’m ready, I will be, and if not, that’s okay too.

And it doesn’t really matter so much what I believe—we can’t carry or solve everything.

Surrendering, aka giving in to what is, seems a plausible choice.

And if I’m wrong, the mistake is mine.

And that is simply uplifting,

Simply uplifting.

In the end, I’d give days of my own for you to be better.