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In search of a passion, of a meaning
that would free me. Something that would allow me to feel as
great as some might believe that I am. Something that would
fill this shell. This outer-garment that my soul must wear.
That it must put on each morning..., no each moment. For my
soul knows that inside I am empty. I am fortunate that my
skeleton can even support the great weight of this masquerade.
But support it I must.
I must believe that someday I can grow
into any garment that I can put on. For if I put it on I must
indeed want to wear it. I must indeed want to be. I must need
to be, and therefore I will strive to become more than I am.
More than I even can be. It is in that striving that I find
life. That I am compelled to stay alive.
My only real hope is that someday I
will be allowed to live for something, someone, some purpose
other than my own. That I may find a way to truly be free, and
not care what type of person that you see. Only what type of
man that you can not see.
Joe (1996) |
