It is believed to be a function, a reason, a use, an intention, an objective … a point. I have used up my life looking for it.
I am not alone on my expedition to recognize this unrelenting desire in my spirit that is never satisfied. Somehow I have reasoned that if this merciless sensation were to be fulfilled that I would acquire the elusive state of happiness. Oh yes, happiness. That is victory.
Years and years have passed. The quest for the answer has been a traumatized journey which has not yet proved to be worth its exclusive cost.
A great man once wrote, “This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one, being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap, the being a force of nature instead of a feverish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.”
Am I this feverish little clod? The darkness is a force of nature. I should find this true joy and recognize my own might. I will wear myself out with this joy – so, at the conclusion of it all, I shall be tossed on a scrap heap.
