Questions of Worth

I asked myself today “why do you give away the things that you desire?” I thought for awhile and I couldn’t seem to grasp an answer of any meaning. I couldn’t really find the words to put it in a sophisticated rant about how I simply felt that I felt as if I have no real purpose. Then I began to think of all of the sharp tongued insults and the words that were stabbed into my enemies’ veins as I filled my soul with anger. I finally was able to respond and answer with. “Because I feel as if others deserve the pleasure of having anything they desire. On the other hand I feel as if I give away my possession I am fixing all of the wronging I’ve ever done. And after that just maybe I’ll find the happiness that I’ve been yearning for years. With every cent or item I give away I don’t feel remorse or sadness. I feel as if I am doing something right for anyone who desires it more than I do.” A repetition of questions without answers begin to stampede through me, they slow down and one question sticks within me and haunts my being as if there is a impurity that lays within me. The impurity sits upon a gigantic rock towers through my soul and the answer lies at the top. A shadow extrudes from the stone as if the shadow were reaching out to prevent me I stepped within the darkness of the shadow and felt my stomach sink as if I had fallen thousands of feet and the air within my body had been sealed shut.

I’ve been trying to climb this rock, this burden on my soul. Left behind by the depression that I constantly feel, the loneliness that it seems no one can conquer.  It stares down at me as if it is better than me, how can a question be better than the one who pondered said question?  I pondered upon the question, and I spoke words of a broken wisdom that I’ve acquired over the years as I’ve matured. “When the question itself questions the worth of a person is when it is itself possibly better than the man who questioned his own worth.”  Such a great question that I couldn’t answer about myself. It was simply “Why are you so kind to the world when the world has offered you nothing in return?” I keep staring at this rock with its presence overwhelming me as if it had the eyes that could pierce through very man I was trying to become. I look to my past; to my childhood to the very person I am to find the answers to my own question. My mouth opens and the words begin to spill out of me as if a bottle had been over turned and whiskey began to pour across the floor. “I am kind to the world because simply even though it is a harsh world, unforgiving at best. I am still alive, my closest friends are well. I have opportunities that knock upon my mind. I have chances at love and experiences that I will never forget; I hold no grudges against the world. Why should I not care about this world? The beauty that lies upon it is endless. The beauty that lies within the animals, the grass and trees this is the beauty I see. Even the beauty that lays within coldest nights where the only thing to keep anyone warm is a nice cup of hot chocolate. Even though I question my self-worth, I still know that my  beliefs and understandings of this world in all of its cruelties and pain, I can still smile and fight to have what I desire, and all that I desire is to make the people around me smile, even if it is a little bit.”

Often times I find myself questioning who I am as a person because see all of the people around me surprised as if the kindness I exhibit is wrong or just unfamiliar to them as if they have only been treated with sugar coated tongues that are filled with venom and deathly tones. The stone in front of me slowly cracks apart as if the answers I have given to myself have finally sunk into my soul, the whiskey on the floor has been soaked up. Yet I cannot move from within the shadow that I am standing.

I suppose there are many questions that sill remain for me to test if the person I am today will remain or become something different, possibly for the better or the worse. I am pleading to myself that I change for the former and not the latter.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s