Beautified Turmoil

Idealism, something in which has haunted me for a long time. The mind always imaging greater things than which we are, hoping to achieve only a percent of the original imagination. Of course it fails us at every point, never fulfilling the illustion we present ourselves. I see my Mothers point, and I am glad her face lights up when she is around. It is only natural and right, and am very thankfully. This is of greater remorse for me, for not only has my life amounted to little, but here is the woman in which gave birth to me still enduring, enduring as well, a larger load. Of course we all make our ' decisions ' in life, these things causing us either greater joy, or greater sorrow. Can you tell where mine have left me mostly? " I laugh at myself as I write this", and see humor where there is none, inventing the fallacy for the sake of self. See I do contradict myself sometimes. When she holds me she feels a " hollow stone ", yes I have become what I have written about, what I was hoping not to become, what I saw around me, the fear of losing care and joy, losing love for myself of others completely, the thing in which I condone the most and hate, I have become. This is how I feel, it cannot and will not be sugar coated, and pretended feelings be projected and displayed, just so things flow like ones want them to. I have not lost love altogether, I though Im serious, for these are serious times, and ones in which I trust I love, and the others have to gain it, for the days of even "my" grandfather are over, when your word was all you needed in a business arrangement. I know this because of him being that way, doing business with people by word, for they knew his word was solid, and if they did not live up to there's, he would have words with them. Now everyone is suspect, suspect of being a dark heart, one with bitterness and spite, there words being the actions that prove what is in there hearts and minds. I do not want to be friends with these ones, for what would that say about myself, that I condone there darkness, there mental and emotional effects that are inflected without any care of there consequences. In certain ways this is what Im afraid of, the thing in which I hate humanity for I feel creeping into me. It takes energy to sustain self from these influences, and mine is running out. I can either become something other than what is starting to take place, I can let it take place, or I can die. Of course idealisticly I would the first, but in doing so might expend all the energy I have anyway, and the motor is cold, the oil not being changed in awhile, and the battery is not turning over. "Oh you can do it", yes I know that, but do not feel that way, and do not know where to get the feeling of " wanting to do it " anyway anymore. Yes(now specifically directed), I suppose "my" feelings where hurt, but that is not important any longer, for I know, and hurt feelings just stem from selfishness anyway, what is important is the present, always the present, for it is the revelation of future, and the storyteller of the past, always. Is it my perception of time, or time itself that seems to be increasing at a faster rate everyday, or is it the imprint that the collective of humanity leaves on space time. I don't know, but my perception of time seems to have increased over the last 10 years by about 30 percent, and now it is just flowing along like a fleeting river, instead of the mellow stream it used to be.