The Writers' Block
a morbid lord's day
Steve Cormier
Issue date: 3/5/10 Section: Entertainment
i have become overly aware of my own mortality and instead of freeing me i am drowning as i feel the weight of tears fill my stomach, my lungs, anchoring down my heart to this place, fearful to leave, knowing it will not come again.
i often spout a mantra, ever wishing that the sheer repetition will keep a mere hope alive, that without God we are free to face our common destinies and equally freed by this to animate every finite point of this world as we like.
instead, as is now, i am mortified into paralysis - possibilities that once seemed endless as "being" now debate within the great well of my mind over "right" and "wrong" courses to plot, never capable of overtaking one another.
and i know it is a capability fraught with impossibility - impossible to find the outcome elsewhere, external - for if God does not exist then it is my mind, being the only thing i will ever know ("i think therefore i am") that must bear the brunt and strife of moral construction.
and now, facing death-in-possibility at every turn, i yell, "stop being so fucking lazy. get up, get going and get with it. for since none of this will come again the true testament of the heart is living LIFE at every turn to combat resignation and hopelessness until, inevitably, destiny's turn comes."
i often spout a mantra, ever wishing that the sheer repetition will keep a mere hope alive, that without God we are free to face our common destinies and equally freed by this to animate every finite point of this world as we like.
instead, as is now, i am mortified into paralysis - possibilities that once seemed endless as "being" now debate within the great well of my mind over "right" and "wrong" courses to plot, never capable of overtaking one another.
and i know it is a capability fraught with impossibility - impossible to find the outcome elsewhere, external - for if God does not exist then it is my mind, being the only thing i will ever know ("i think therefore i am") that must bear the brunt and strife of moral construction.
and now, facing death-in-possibility at every turn, i yell, "stop being so fucking lazy. get up, get going and get with it. for since none of this will come again the true testament of the heart is living LIFE at every turn to combat resignation and hopelessness until, inevitably, destiny's turn comes."
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