Wanting

A mindless job that makes you want to cry at every moment of being within the building that holds the ignorance. Wanting of a point in life other than that of subtle existance. Wanting that of a life. I have no choice but to work for money, doing these tasks that do not intrest me and take my life further and further to the edge of pointlessness. A knife floats on the edge of the cliff that I walk toward. With only a leap I could grasp this metal and end my agony. But with only a leap I would end this creation that has become who I am. This view of who we are is so fragile that it can change at any moment; with a knife we can cut away who we are and make it who we were, and create who we want to be, making that who I am . However, I am lost in the mixture of paints that has masked the way that I must become. There is nothing more for me in what I was. The holding on to everything and yet grabbing nothing. I leap forth with in the same moment I regret it emiditly knowing that while falling through the air I have only two choices. One, land with a mangled version of who I jumped from. Two, cut away from myself and extend into what I am wanting. The risks at hand I have expeted, I have wanted, I would not have stepped from the solidness that is the cliff if I was not wanting. I am wanting. I am having. We can want and it can be a sin. But if we shall break from the mear wanting for superficial reason and enter into the realm of having for the benifit of living we are forgiven. I am wanting. I am having. I am forgiven. Lucifer hugs me, Adam and Eve are making love behind me. I have cut away my former self and am coming into my new skin. I see more and feel more, yet I hold back more as well. I am wanting... of a job, of a point, of a life. I am having...of a job, of a point, of a life. I am forgiven...of a job, of a point, of a life.