With the overbearing inadequacy tearing him apart, he is left to what he has
been taught over his misspent years.
Although every learned person with
which his path have crossed has given him the assurance that magical and
outstanding things are bound to happen, they have not realised. In fact, the
exact opposite has materialised. Without any reason, he is unable to fathom
his fate. That naturally poses another very real and painful realisation. He is
in the unfortunate position of seeing nothing better for himself than
forgotten dust, whirled into a spiral of forgotten wind.
It is clear that depression is only moments away of destroying this young
mans life. This begs the
question. Why. Short and to the point. Many shy away
from this easy and unlingering question which has been asked ad nauseam.
But will someone be so kind as to give a similar short and to the point
answer. Something consequential is about to give scholars another book to
write about.
He is bored. His problem is two-fold. He feels uncapable to conect with his
peers, and unable to reach out to a higher plane. He feels bound to a lifetime
of mediocracy, a dangerous feeling. What is there to aspire to. It would seem
that it is an easy feeling to
embrace. No expectations. Despite infringing on
every sinew in his body it seems the best and most logical route to follow.
He knows however that the impending dissapointment and resentment would
be just as unbearable. A new sensation which he has never experienced is
boiling from the depths. An instinctive awareness of destruction. Not of
things, but of people, relationships. Meaningless as they may be, they are all
he has. He does however have an overwhelming need to embrace, but can’t
bring himself to such a vulerable point.