El Condor Pasa

I have spent much of these past few weeks in thought, meditation and contemplation, and I have come to the conclusion that nothing matters in this "life", that nothing that I have ever done, said or thought will ever benefit me or anyone else in any way, that life is a waste of time and a really sick joke on the part of the "creator", a very sad and cruel experiment in a huge laboratory that we call "the world". I spend day after day having my parts pulled at, tugged on, crushed or otherwise assaulted. Why?
 

What purpose is there to all of this? Are we merely "lab rats" who are put here for the amusement of some larger being? Is it merely to see how much the human spirit can endure before it breaks into a million pieces? How much are we expected to take before we are released from our bondage here? I guess the bigger questions are these; are we ever released, or must we continue to endure this insane torture for an eternity? Do we ever finally come to rest, or are we on some gigantic treadmill till the end of time, or is there ever an end to time as we know it?

I have to find something to laugh about or at, because if I don't I will break down and cry again. I am tired of doing that. I'm tired of being torn apart physically, mentally and emotionally twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-four days a year. (Yes, one day a year, three years in a row I get a break from the eternal bombardment of mayhem that rains down on us. Then of course, there is leap year that robs me of that even.) So what? Who cares? What does it matter? When does it stop? Where will I be then? What difference does it make?

I doubt that the world of the future will ever know that I was even here, as there will be no permanent marker left anywhere that will show any signs of my existence. My great grandchildren and their descendants will probably never even know my name, much less what I did or did not do while I was here. It does not matter, for in time we all end up in the same place-----DEAD! Thank goodness that I have that left to look forward to; I can hardly wait for it to come. I am ready, willing and able to accept that, as I will finally experience "true peace". At least, I hope that is what I will find at the end of this road.

Betty

Peace????????????
When?????????
Where????
At what cost??????

Today is March 24, 1999 and I have something to add to this page that I never believed I would hear myself say out loud or even think. Life sucks even more than I thought could be possible. Within the past few months I have had my faith destroyed completely, my faith in the American justice system, my faith in the innate goodness of mankind and in my belief that in the end all wrongs will be righted.

Yesterday, my faith in God joined that list of things to be put away forever. I trusted in the promise that if I put all my troubles in his hands he would carry the load, that he would not allow me to be overcome by the burdens of life. I was mistaken about that; he did nothing to intervene on the behalf of me or my family, and now all is lost. The lives of my family members have been destroyed by lies, half truths and a mentally disturbed teenager.

I once had sympathy for this child, when she was younger and victimized by another person, but now she has become the aggressor, the enemy, and I can not and will not forgive her for what she has done. She is old enough to know better and she does know better, but she is so full of anger and hatred that she is striking out at anyone and everyone who tries to help her. My pity goes out to anyone who befriends her, for they'll surely get "stabbed in the back" someday, maybe even for real, for their good deeds toward her.

Do I hate her? No, I can't say that I do. To hate her would require expending energy on her, and it would only eat up my insides. It would be a waste of time for me as well, for I cannot hate someone who is dead. Her body lingers around somewhere still living and breathing, but in my mind she is DEAD forever. There will be no more tears for her or her problems, only for her victims and their families. If that sounds cold and callous, perhaps it is, but it's the only way that I have left to cope with the things she's done to us. I do not feel hate or love toward her now,  only indifference .

To quote one of my own poems, "Someone Cared"

"But a bowl has a limit, then it overflows.
A soul too has a limit, then it knows
That it has had all it can safely bear
And reaches out for help from somewhere. "

Yesterday my soul reached its limit, my bowl overflowed, so I dumped the rest of it out. I feel nothing now, nothing at all. I have nowhere else to go for help. I am alone now except for a loving and supportive husband, well perhaps a daughter and a grand daughter on occasion, a couple of internet friends who have shared this trip, but that's it.

Yes, life is a joke, a really sick one!

Click on the link above to send your personal comments on this page.
Thanks for reading this crap, and please don't send me any religious literature; I am not on speaking terms with my "creator" right now.
However, if you have a good joke around, I could use a good laugh.
 
 

Laughter.jpg was created by Betty Lee to be used on this page.
Other graphics came from a freebie site at Valentine's day.
Senility prevents me from linking to that site at this time.