Sometimes Never.

Desire.

Want.  What.  I.  Do.  Not.  Have.

This Moment.  Right now.  

Something.  Someone.  An Idea.  A reality.  A possibility.  A concept.  A precept.  A noun.

Person.  Place.  Thing.  A Noun.

Desire.  

A strong wanting for something.  A yearning.

The feeling that accompanies an unsatisfied state.

What am I without desire..?  I am ...surviving.  I ..continue..  towards..  what?

Can I go anywhere without any wants..?  Can I...be happy?

Happiness.  Contentment.  Fulfillment.

Key:  Fullfillment.

What is fullfillment; the act of filling.

What is filling?

The end of the quest.

The prize to be won.

Key:  Won.

This game, this competition, this race...is one to win.

Win....you have to want...to win.

....................................

So here I am, with precious time on my hands in a wasted away day; soon to be forgotten by the outer consciousnesses of my mind.  Ingrained by undigested recesses of the back of my memory. 

I've fallen in love with an idea again.  I've fallen into a mess.  With each mess getting more difficult to find my way out of.  It makes you wonder, when you sit in the back of your mind in a dim room, asking:  What's the point?

The point....the point...I seemed to have lost my point.  What was it?  What is it?  Didn't I have it just a minute ago?  The point...it was...for certain...for someone...for something....it was...my point.  To live; to sacrifice, to work, to be full.  Where did my point go?  And when can I find it again?

Always the right ideas.  Always the wrong people.
Always the right people.  Always the wrong idea. 

God's little game justified in a sick circle of irony.  It's all irony.  I could laugh about if for months and months until I die from exhaustion.  Peeking through small gaps between His so called "plan,"  I believe I've had my point once again.
Until I blink.
Then I'm lost in the foray in a sudden jolt of sleepiness.  I'm not so awake anymore.  I'm not present.  I'm dead.  Far from breathing.  What is death?  Death Is.  What is life?  Life is... 

Possibility.  
Function.  

Even the dying have both.  But life is dying, and dying is life--so let's put that one in the back burner, shall we?  

What happens when I want to lose grip of this human feeling of "emotion."  Human so to speak, as I've detected no such "emotion" in anything else on this planet.  Do the trees sway in joy?  Or in depression?  Does the wolf eat with sympathy?  Or with deliberate cruelty?

LISTEN TO YOURSELF.

There is no wolf.  There is no sympathy.  There is no love.  There are no trees.  There is no sky, there is no nothing, something, anything.

There is only you.  These words you speak are all that they are.  Words.  Nothing else.  This attempt is futile...what is a tree?

A tree...

You've seen trees.  I'm sure.  But a tree ...is not our tree.  When we say "tree," our lips move to form a series of vibrations and echoes from our larynx.  "Tree" is a sound we make.  We attempt to label that great life with a sound, and a symbol--a representation of something.  "Tree" is representative.


And representatives bring us no closer to the real truth.

"Love."  Human representation of an emotion, a concept, a loyalty, a reason.  A reason for living.

Yet it still remains a representative of what it actually is.  Thereby eliminating possibility to understand it fully.


But where does comprehension come into play then? 

I hate that I don't know.  I'll never be content with not knowing.  I have to know.  I need to know....

I want you to know.


I'm still falling.