I wasn't there one day.
That's it.
That's all that happened.
I don't know what else to tell you.
I was there most of my life,
And then one day,
I just wasn't.
It was sort of like watching a train, really.
For a brief moment,
The train captures everything in it's path.
While it exists within your presence,
You don't matter.
The train is, and all must observe.
But then,
It's gone.
Like it never happened.
No remnants or evidence it was ever there,
Except for some battered, old tracks,
Fading to nowhere and halfway to everywhere.
I still don't understand what the big deal is.
I didn't do anything immoral.
I mean, did I?
This was free will at its best.
And who are you to tell me my life path is lesser in some way than yours?
You can't justify that,
So I really can't listen.
I don't have the time.
I get where you're coming from.
I really do.
But I can't support it.
Just can't go along.
You're wrong.
And that's all there is to it.
It's hard to swallow,
I know.
I've certainly been there.
The realization of ignorance is a dark, deserted plain.
Nothing to guide you out,
And time seems to eerily ebb and flow.
But it gets better.
Trust me.
There are plenty of lantern-bearers,
Scavenging the darkness for a new recipient of their flame.
And they will guarantee that you are fit to bear it.
Time is on our side,
I promise.
We got caught up in thinking life was a race,
And now we're really fucked.
Our perception is all misaligned and out of focus.
No wonder life seems so gray and sad,
Because you're not even seeing life.
Wait.
Stop.
Reverse.
Now think.
Listen.
Live.
But not just as who you think you are.
We're instinct more than anything,
So for the love of the generations before you,
Which is to say you,
Let go.
I'm no prophet.
Certainly no savior-related agenda here.
I'm not even doing this for you.
I'm doing this for the most selfish reasons I've seen.
I don't like who you are,
Because you want to kill me.
So I'm here,
To perfect your system, use it against you, and destroy every bad thought the human race has decided to keep.
Heh.
Lofty, you think?
But I'm not worried.
I'm not thinking on anywhere close to a lifetime scale.
We're talking generations.
Of me.
And you.
But only you after me.
I'm leaving my mark here.
Why?
Because, well, I love my life.
More than anything I've ever felt.
More powerful than lust,
More overwhelming than sadness.
And the way I see it is,
If I can look at my existence with such reverence and satisfaction,
I've got to be doing something right.
And this is all I'm ever going to have.
Ever.
So it's past the point of embracing,
And on to the task of spreading.
My soul,
My body,
And my experiences.
And you might not be here afterward,
But be my guest to resist.