senses

why is it that when we talk about death people belive it to be depressing. a taboo, bad omen or what not. how could it be such a bad thing if everyone eventually must go? i belive it to be worse being the one left behind, only knowing for certain that i exist and that, sadly, i have eyes to see the tragic events caused by mother nature and her fury, or even worse, by man and his ignorance and fragile mind, so easly corrupted and manipulated; ears to hear the complaints of the lonely souls that must complicate there lives and those around them so as to feel important; a nose to smell the sulphurous acids being expelled into the air, instead of the breathtaking aroma of flowers that should be in its place; a Mouth to taste the chemical concoctions that addict even the strongest and alter the human bodies natural functions; hands, to feel the dirt that builds on each surface, mocking our compulsive need to clean the only mess that is not worth cleaning; a brain, where all the information brought to me by my five vital senses is processed and the horror of it all is realized and transformed into words so i can share it with technology and the few who actually listen to my mumbling nonsense; and last but not least, a heart to despair in such thoughts and to still, surprisingly, have hope for what is to come and to keep on wanting to live on to see it, even when it is in our nature to eventually give in to the light(for i would not dare to call such a fate darkness) and sleep on.

p.s.: this one is a bit depressing, i know. despite it going against my superficial feelings, where i am actually the happiest i have been in the last 3 months, i let my fingers do the typing and these are the words that slipped out. i guess our inner feelings not even we understand, sometimes.