I am not alive, though they say I am. Such is the grave
inconsequence of man; liar that I am, I am not alive at all, not
alive at all, no. I am not alive.
Countless years have I spent in my quest, or so it would seem, at
the will of my mentor’s request for truth, for the meaning, for life.
But what of this day? What of my own existence? How can I
pray to that which I cannot perceive?
Destiny would have that I blindly follow with no thought of my
own. But when I contemplate tomorrow my heart is turning to
stone. Why am I never satisfied? Why do I live with constant
pain? Is life just passing time till I die and thence never to rise
The sun is gone bringing the dark, the darkness heralds in the
night. I cannot sleep, my eyes are wide, it’s the longest night of
my life. I’ve been denied, my life is gone, where is my breath, I
must have died. My hour is come, my tears are dry within my
eyes, life is denied. I’m cold, I’m dying, I’m cold, I am dying.
In my wretchedness, I recall the words my Teacher spoke to me,
“It won’t suffice merely to exist my young friend. To be alive is
not to live, you must have life.” Destiny, my companion, who has
joined me for many a day, enlightens my wandering mind thus,
“The fact that it is your utmost desire to behold both truth and life,
whilst you live in ongoing uncertainty and the everpresence of
death, would suggest that this state which you find yourself in is
not of your own demeanour; suggests that you once had
contentment and life from whence you’ve been enticed away.
Such was the Fall, that great tragedy of man. To behold both
truth and life, reason alone cannot suffice. You will not find it
within yourself for there lies corruption and death. And there’s no
use in searching outside yourself for that, I’m afraid, is just nature.
Now you are reading: I Am Not Alive – Paramaecium