May I never again confuse a trifling contentment for peace, or a smothering serenity for joy.
May a tacit agreement over shared illusions never seem like harmony with others, or their mere presence feel like community.
May the world fail me so thoroughly that I forget me in my withdrawl from pain instead of seeking another selfish pleasure.
If I hunger, may I crave that which can only be satisfied by fasting. If I dream, may I dream of my own emptiness.
As long as there is work to do, may I never chose stultifying rest over labor.
For the task I have been given is to mine the cave of my own being until it disappears, and the axe in my hand is Chaos. May it stay sharp with my discontent for what everyone else calls real.
29 July 2012
San Diego, California
Not One, Not Two 