At Odds with the Gods

Life has been fuckin horrific, for the last year and a half or so.  Relentless shocks and blows have left me wounded and traumatised.  Throughout it all, I keep looking for the meaning in it, the ‘meant to be’, the lesson to be learned to come out a better, stronger person.  There comes a time where one must conclude this is all crap.  There is no rhyme nor reason.  There is no higher purpose motivating all the adverse events in our lives, and any perpetual instinct to find one is either the remanence of misguided faith learned in childhood, or evidence that there is something eternally good in us, searching for reflection without and failing repeatedly to find one, evidence that we, indeed, do not belong here.

In a self-consuming world, how can we ever maintain love towards that which we eventually must devour, or that will devour us?  In a place where all my lessons of wisdom have eluded to oneness and acceptance of all, pain and grief only grow and mount relentlessly, as I share in the pain of all that surrounds me.  The only remedy to disconnect, and deny one’s self from one’s own pain and guilt for pain inflicted on others.

This world seems to contradict all that we truly are, and in so doing, inflicts nothing but agony on us.  The mere fact that this hurts is proof, yet again, that we do not belong.  What is natural to us doesn’t cause us pain and suffering.

Is there a reason, a lesson, a higher purpose?  A Deity up there trying to show us something profound through our suffering?  Such a common idea, such a popular belief.  And yet, had we raised our children this way, punishment upon punishment, they would be taken away from us, and we would probably be incarcerated, guilty of abuse. 
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And so, the only true way out is death (or maybe Fruitarianism for all -back to Eden, right?  😊).  Death, and Birth, and Sleep; the enigmas of our existence.  We seem incapable of comprehending infinity, but it is the finality in the detail of our lives that is alien to us.  It is the ‘reality’ that we know, that we cannot comprehend.  I ask myself often why we sleep, where do we go?  It is always such a healing, nourishing escape from this madness.  So why do we keep waking up again?