Imperative

Imperative 4-26-05
Time will end, it will cease to be, for me to know when this will happen is impossible, I know little if anything, I am nothing in the world, an observer that wishes to join, an onlooker that can only see things, inconsequential things, things that distort, things that are not needed. I see an empty road, a cold slab of lifelessness, it stretches as far as one can see, it is all that one could see. It is the view that I am damned to know. I see others on the way to elsewhere, where else could I be but here. I’ve failed and thus am punished by my actions. Actions and non-action, interfering with none yet affecting much, much that lays before me in this barren creation. In all directions it spreads, in all directions it wishes to lure those naïve enough to listen. It speaks with a voice of half-truths and undue urgency. It stands still with me, coaxing me to forget its purpose, without knowing what the dead may learn, I can’t say how to navigate, to where, or where one begins, but begin one must. I stand in the middle of the jumble; it’s a wonder that it works at all for anyone, as I’ve been unable to figure its goal. I live as if ‘twere a contest whose conquest was imperative, and punished beyond reason, and that that is due to remind me of my failures. It is designed to kill; it is designed to take from those who can’t spare a thing. It breeds a new future, a future that leaves me behind. This future is wicked; it’s people, wicked as well. It is unknowable and thus comprised entirely out of speculation, my most pessimistic of views. My most doubtful of nightmares, whose terror haunts my wishes to grow beyond this. My wish to never be caught in me middle, to not negate my goals aside from the quickly disappointing happenstance that presently corrupts what I though that I had built up to be. Regardless of where it takes me it is time to rest that I may not go on without noting what is seems to tell me, that I may further my trek unto the mission of completion. It speaks, I’d rather not listen, but it is now the only voice that I can hear. I know it lies, but I’d rather keep moving to fail later, to prolong the end of the road. I’d rather keep moving that I may fail through my own course than through what it tells me to do.