Tuesday, 18 August 2009
The Final Writings of Arthur Samuels
“I was born, and I followed the path.
Then one day I plunged myself into the darkness, I submerged myself in the opaque waters of human existence, destined to either find the answer I needed, or hopelessly drown in the process. I burst through the surface, desperate for breath, having failed on both counts. But, that’s not to say there won’t ever be a day when the water subsides and leaves behind the glowing pearl of wisdom I was looking for. I’d even wager that from time to time I’ll go back there, and seek again what evaded me that day, but it would take a moment of immense clarity, not to mention coincidence, for me to stumble upon what has been lost for so long.
All the while, time marches on, my own existence ebbs and burns brightly towards it’s end, and I must use the light to keep the night at bay. It’s time to be selfish, to saturate my sensory fibres with pleasure.
I shall try and flood my mind with experience and knowledge, and to temper my own vibrant steel in compassion for other people.
Without a higher meaning, I revert to the things that distract me the most. If I stop occupying myself, or fail to numb my mind with ecstasy it will turn in on itself again, and I will be combing through mud searching for that elusive answer.
It can’t be said that I am melancholy, for I am truly awake with joy when I am in the company of those I admire, or when luck should deposit me in the arms of a lover, I am distracted to the point of oblivion.
I don’t wish to die. I wish to live as much as possible in the time I am allotted, safe in the idea that I can find pleasure, if not meaning in this most grave predicament. My legacy is dust, as is yours, but in all dust and debris there is a great story, which exists even if nobody takes time to listen.
Please, don’t ask me the meaning of our being. I looked, high and low, and with a wry smile I realised that it was a great trick, a proud practical joke on us all that one day we would evolve so highly as to understand there was really no need for us to evolve at all. But without laughter, all are days are dark, and so I salute you silent joker, and my pen shall fall silent. “
- Short fiction piece about a writer's resignation.
©2009 Copyright Daniel J. Fiasco
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