I always envisioned myself as some archangel battling demons across clouds of crimson that streaked the skies. Everything was so straight forward; everything made sense. Two sides, good and evil, pick one or the other and make that the good side. Even in that fantasy hell could be heaven.
As I flitted through life I found no strong connection to either side. For both were born from inside me. Machinations that tie the history of humankind together. And yet, even in that I found no belonging. I wished to fight both sides which bears no fruit and could only lead to one outcome: my destruction. A single man pitted against to towering ideologies that existed before me and will continue to after me. How could I hope to win?
I loved it all the more. Incessant in nature to fight the losing battle. Further forward in life the colours swirl and black and white was simply an illusion. A way to make the chaos of the world seem somewhat manageable; as us versus them is an easy concept to hide behind. I dip in all the colours and taste their delights with no one colour hitting that sweet tooth of my soul.
It is not the black I hide in. Nor the white I use to blind others. It isn’t the myriad of millions of colours that dress me in their spirits. It’s the vacancy of verisimilitude; a vacuum vivacious in its viscosity, and venereal in its vernacular.
Look, I gave away my heart and it will not return. The sea is my only friend, far swept from any land or dwelling place. No one to visit me and no place to call my home. I am not lost…I simply do not belong.