my view on humanity

There comes a time when pleasure is due and the only question left is how much I have lived and so, how much have I wasted.

 I fear what is to come as everything I see still carries redundancy and despair among its companions from afar. would I still live in a world drought of humanity and kindness, as every place I look I witness the darkness of such a past that has me on a tool. I carry the remnants of my past failures and losses thinking I am far ahead yet among the present I hold no power as they hopelessly guide me back to my room to wither and die. I fear for what is to come as everything around the moment either seems tasteless or out of touch, yet who am I to carry such a judgment, who am I to say such words of hopelessness and devouring melancholy. I lay still thinking of what was and how I could have changed something or any little thing that helped me see what was left undone. From my most bottomless fountain of misery, I may pour a cup of happiness in between, yet what is the difference between both that and times when I just lay still unable to live up to my fantasies, only darkness comes in between as everything I ever hoped for is gone, that is how I know how hopeless and futile it would seem if I ever hear someone calling for happiness to finally come and be. yet is it not delusional from us to expect some goodness to prevail from the amount of dirt and ugliness of our souls that has capsulated our interest and selfish intent to live and reproduce, therein lays the most evil thought of a self-ruling society which is only governed by what is desired or wished from our deepest bottomless abyss of pleasure and lust.

there was no other moment where I was this sure of what was yet to come, What would be if we only carried what is good and displaced it not with the bad, if only we were able to see the residue left from our wrongdoings and to finally see our beings for what it really is; a full-on mask that has been very well tailored to fit every little emotion that we come to be very well acquainted with, every little spark of selfish intent to be out of the ordinary as even the average comes to be hated and neglected afar from the true fallacies of our short vile lives. there is only hate left to pass, only the bleakness of what may come, chaos amidst the shadows of the past haunting me and every peculiar sound that lives to see the destruction of the world.

A few of us may need to be of a firm hand of devoted individuals to one higher cause, which be the deliverance of our true intention from what smeared it from lies and deceit falling through the facade we have so meticulously built to carry out our own misjudgment, or of what we see life as in its most need. there must be harmony amid this shallow selfish intent which is capable only of hate and self-inflicted criticism, as we dare say no to faces enveloped still with the remnants of such an ugly past.

no solace is ever expected from us vile creatures of nature so expect nothing to be fixed, at least not until we dare look our ugliness in the face and finally order it to cease or so; be controlled.