Keats

I wonder why I dived in.

What did I hope would happen?

Would everything suddenly become clear?

Humanity is really nothing but obfuscation of the facts if I was Keats that would have sounded a lot more poetical and definitely a lot more sexual. You know Keats had a life mask made 5 years before his death, I would like one but 5 years after my death. I wonder what the world will look like 5 years after my death, I guess that will probably depend on when I die and how I die may also affect the cosmic balance of life.

Humanity has this lovely thing of being preoccupied with death, we should probably realise that we spend a lot longer dead than alive and should allow ourselves to be preoccupied with living and leave the death part until it inevitably takes us. In the end, I would like to be known as having tried to avoid the human preoccupation with death. If I become too preoccupied with death I would like to be known as the finest Russian author from Tsarist times.

The precipice though, is it a metaphor or a literal precipice that I am confronting?

It weighs on my mind, the precipice. It is always looming as if it is goading me to jump in, to run over and just go. Don’t think just go. It is there for a reason, it calls. Bringing with a fog of confusion.

This confusion building up and adding to the myriad of problems I see. I try and be a better person, but this just makes me feel used. perhaps I was used but I allowed it to happen to me as I built a myth in my head. How do I bring these myths down with destroying myself or those around me?

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