What is this need we have, this need to shout from every mountain top, "I exist! Here I am Mother Fuckers!"?
We struggle all of our lives, for what? Some don't live long enough some would say to call it a struggle. I say, "Bullshit!" To the infant each single breath is an eternity. So he only lived a couple minutes, hours, days: to him it was a lifetime of furious fighting. Fighting to live one more second, one more breath. No giving up. When you give up there is nothing left. The final fall into darkness. Into oblivion.
Why do we do it? Why do we go on? Why this need?
We gather experiences, emotions, images, words, friends, enemies. Everything eventually falls away from us. What we perceive as Time, that instant snap snap snap snapshot of a moment is here, now it's gone and then the next and the next. We reach out for it but it is already falling away from us as our finger tip brushes against it one last time.
Why this need though?
The need to leave something of ourselves behind falling away from us as we continue on to the Vanishing Point.
Some of us populate the world with mini versions of ourselves, some leave music, some leave tome upon tome filled with words, some build mammoth constructs to their own hubris, others build nation states in their own craven image while condemning millions to a faceless death.
What is this need?
We fill our minds up throughout our lives with knowledge, art, the mundane, the horrofic, and the holy. Our minds overflowing only to have them snuffed out as easily as a candle. A lifetime of effort, gone.
What is this need?
Others though seem content to go through life anonymously. One of billions, just one more face, body, functioning but interchangeable with the next. I understand this even less. To be faceless, nameless, yet exist. How do I become one of them?
My thought and my horror is that I may already be nameless, faceless. Is it possible that when I die I will be as anonymous as the next guy? Doesn't my existence have meaning? Surely there is meaning to all this struggle?
If there is no meaning to this struggle why do it then? Why struggle? Why wake up at all? Why create if when we are gone no one will notice that we were here in the first place?
Some answer the question by filling their lives with religion, philosophy, science, porn, drugs, sex, sports, job, murder, art, music.
When all of these things cease filling up the emptiness, or you have satiated yourself where it no longer is that all encompassing narcotic that keeps you going, for all these thing are the Narcotic of Life, what then?
When everything has fallen away from us why do we continue to struggle?
Many don't. Every one of them gave up to the flaring momentary Darkness that hung over them like a shroud. We don't realize what it is until they are falling away from us. Always falling away, further and further out of our reach.
Why do I continue with this struggle called Existence?
It's as simple as this: When I open my eyes in the morning I'm happy as fuck that I have at least this one day to create, to destroy, to fill myself up with art, music, friends, love, hate, pain: all that life gives us and takes away from us. It may be all gone and I'm falling away from Time and Existence five minutes from now, but this moment, and this moment I am still here Mother Fuckers! That's enough for me.
- kenny cross