nihilist rage poetry

April 23, 2020

I will only accept unconditional, pure love from this day forward: a love not based in ego or appearance but in connection and the desire to see others flourish. I will only accept this from myself as well I don’t feel I truly love myself yet.

It’s painful to realize these things.

I wish I didn’t dislike my boobs so much and obsessed about them, my skin, etc. It’s soooo much energy rooted in rejecting myself. I think it’s rooted in general self-consciousness, the belief that, in order for me to love myself, I need to be objectively lovable to others. Do I even know how to accept unconditional love that is also romantic? Does that exist?

It continues to be hard for me to accept that my life with Magician is over. I can’t fathom ever feeling that good with another person. To what extent that was embedded in co-dependency and to what extent it was the fire of true twin flame magic, I am at a complete loss. In either case, how do I ever overcome this loss and stop aching to be with him (or rather, the person I thought he was)?

I don’t know how to find real closure without speaking to him about it. But I think that’s rooted in me wanting deep down for him to acknowledge the profound passion, connection, and friendship between us, and promise to heal and try love with me again. It’s too painful for me to believe that he wasn’t who I thought he was, because that means my experience of true love was a total self-deception, that it never really happened.

But to believe that it was true love and that he and I are in the end still meant to be together is also too painful, because it’s anchoring my soul to something that may be a step backward or that may direct me away from peace or real joy.

Worst of all is the possibility that it was true love, and I lost it for no real reason except the cruel frailty of the human soul when confronted by the ego. Magician is no longer, to me, to the world. Where the fuck did he go? Was he ever real? If it was only my imagination, why couldn’t my imagination continue the lie?

If I am never able to look in his eyes and see the person I knew, will I be able to find that powerful connection with someone else? If I can’t have what I want out of life, what’s the point?

I either sit around waiting to know for sure if I can have what I want,

or I find a way to change what I want out of life,

or I kill myself,

or I suffer through a woeful existence and leave the world with a trove of nihilist rage poetry.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light … or just don’t even fucking bother, because you’re going to die either way.

Sometimes I think it best to suck the entirety of consciousness from my existence. Other days I want to transcend existence now and never return. Some days I feel deep inside Samsara.

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