From a Notebook Lost: The Same and The Other 22

by mudrhetoric

Stem the tide, hold it back, so it not destroy us. Lift your hands to the sky and cry to your gods that we be not destroyed. But why? Let the gods destroy me for that would be a pleasant end. Not that the end will be pleasant, but that an end is pleasant. An end is a resolution of all things that started form the beginning and are now finished. They have completed the course. So now let me be destroyed, so that i may end and have an end. Do not cry or pray for me? I wish to end. Stop talking and pleading. I want to finish. Just let me be. Do nothing, and let me be. Unlike you I have no goal, point, reason, meaning to be. You probably have none either, but want to live for your parasitic ways and mannerisms. Me and i and you and you are not so much different. Except in one way: I know we are nothing and you think we are something. Your foolishness will give you and empty stomach and a death that will be empty and hollow. Though my stomach be empty, in my death, I am content. You will not be, for you have yet to accept the truth. So go screaming and yelling to your end. Full of pain and agony and horror and terror. If that what you wish and want. But I, oh yes I, will have a death of pain, but I am content. So all that happens matters not. We all seek this contentment, and it can be found, but only in nothing. I will be content when I end. Only in nothing will you be content. When I end; I will be content.

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