ghosts of the past

... some existentialist philosopher once said
that life is like driving a car looking thru
the rearview mirror

... in our heads, the past is all that we really
have. We have memories and lessons learned from the past,
but we tend to focus our conciousness there, instead of looking
forward into the unknown future of myriad possibilities

... I know what the Past is, but the future is more exciting

... it's unknown, it's full of all sorts of interesting

... hope for the future is what keeps you alive, it's the basis
for our sense of self-preservation

... if you know your future is going to continually degrade, so that
the pain of facing tommorow is worse than what you have today, with absolutely
no hope, then you are very inclined to pull your own plug

... it's like a good agent, who would take cyanide rather than
face torture by his captors ... why suffer?

... the only good reason to suffer, is for the hope that
things will improve, that your suffering will somehow make you stronger
and healthier, and that it will be all worth it

... it all depends on hope

... but then again, those are dreams of the earth, and as they
say, you can't take it with you

... so what kind of world do you have to live in, so that your
suffering can carry forward to your next world. So that the
karma carries forward, where you equalize the balance.

... maybe that is what karma is, a carrying forward thru Time,
a balance sheet we own, for the suffering we caused, or the pleasures due
for doing good deeds.

... but then again, one must not just accept one's situation

... one must be able to make the claim of your soul's innocense,
and that any bad karma thrust upon one's self is wrong

... we get a pretty rough deal on earth, suffering is everywhere

... I'm often tested by a dream, where all of us are forced laborers
for some ruthless leader, and each day we walk by this cliff, on the
way to the day's endless hard labor

... everybody has the chance, just to jump off the cliff, and end it all,
but we keep on walking, we all keep on walking

... but will I jump in my dream? To end it all with a few seconds of
glory, flying like a bird until the inevitable splat.

... well, I can assure you I am still sitting here writing this, so something
gave me hope enough to stay alive

... I wonder what that hope is? That I'll be happily married one day living
like Ozzie and Harriet in the suburbs?

... probably not, but the myriad of available futures is interesting to
think about

© 2012 by zentara