“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I’ve ever known.”
-Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters.

Amalgam. Collaboration. Combination. Hybrid. Fusion.

Adulteration. Debasement. Phony. Counterfeit. Pretender.

Is this all we get for our lives? I am nothing but a reflection of what I aspire to be. I am one of a generation of conceit, complaints, and irresponsibility. I ask for the government to be my nanny, father, mother, brother, sister, friend, and hero. I have no thoughts for my own. They are invalids, vegetables, corpses, hand-me-downs. They are nothing.
Is this all we get for our lives? I am everything I never wanted to be. I am the archetype for the entire human race. For everything I want to change. The prototype, the patriarch, the voice of my generation. The role model, the end all be all.
Is this all we get for our lives? In my endless dreams, I have endless wealth. My wallet is a bottomless pit, and it is all I can do to stop myself from crying: just think of all that I can buy. Give me a brand name, a stamp of approval. Let me fit in. Dull my senses. Alcohol, sex, the Internet. It’s not lazy, we’re Americans. I’m not drunk, I just drink socially. I am justified because; I am right because.
Is this all we get for our lives? Languages rot; our thoughts decay into nothing because we do not think. We do not know. Push repeat. Tick tock. Cynicism, greed, and laziness. Want ethic versus work ethic. Welcome to the neighborhood. I pledge allegiance to America myself. My Self, My God.

We are lost. I am lost.

I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am

Is this all we get for our lives? I know that I am part of the problem. I am disgusted with myself. I proudly proclaim that I am guilty by association. But is this all we get?

We are lost. I am lost.

And yet I have a newfound sense of clarity. A momentary lapse into reason. I know that the chaos will end. The endless waves of sound, sight, and feeling will one day give way to peace. Monotone, monochrome, and bleak, the world will pass away into Technicolor, beauty, and hope. I know this. The shadow proves the sunshine. The night is darkest before dawn.
I know that “after the fire, a still small voice.”

We are lost. I am lost.

I want to be lost in a sense of elation. Lost in hope. Lost in love. Lost in freedom. Lost in humor. Lost in knowledge. Lost in thought. Lost in prayer. Lost in worship. Lost in song. Lost in peace. Lost in individualism. Lost in fellowship. Hiding, I am protected inside the wounds of sacrifice. Drowning, I die to myself so that I may be reborn, greater than before.
This is what I have been given for my life. And I will lose myself in it. I will not waste a second.
This is the art of losing myself.


selah.