Existentialism.

Don't get me wrong,

Men are trash, vile treacherous things that will betray even themselves.a

Engineered to want or need women from the day their born.

And so from the get go the ball has always been in our court.

But we're to busy loathing ourselves and in competition with each other to notice.

That discovery and not just the external locus of control has been the source of my many depressions.

That all we do on this earth is hurt and be hurt, endure.

Tell me what is the meaning of life,

 How does the caterpillar metamorph if it is constantly in healing?

How does the butterfly relish in kissing flowers when it will either pluck it's wings out?

It's self or other animals and forces of nature will do it. 

And that ladies and gentlemen is the struggle of the depressed.

Futility.

What is the point of trying, if the probability of your efforts being thwarted is identical to you succeeding?

The metaphor I like using for my depressions is drowning.

Being in the middle of the ocean, feet far from the bottom and my nose just barely out of the water.

Kicking to keep myself afloat,

I'm tired.

What makes matters worse is I know,

Another wave is coming and like the one before,

It will engulf me and I will find myself underwater, disorientated,

kicking just to stay alive.

You ask if it gets better,

"With time" is the response

Somehow isn't reassuring.

"You get used to it",

That's a more honest response.

So I'm supposed to become familiar with the concept of suffering, "endure" is basically what I'm told.

The "woke" or the "spiritually awakened" say that there's a lesson to it.

Something I'm to take from the experience, nothing happens without cause or reason.

What id rather hear is;

When a big wave comes, duck.

It won't hit you as hard, sometimes it is safer underwater.

Learn how to hold your breathe, since swimming for you is a bit too ambitious.

Open your eyes when you do go underwater, there's more to look at there.

And when the sea settles,

the waves not big or strong enough to put you under, close your eyes,

calm your heart, lie on your back, you'll float.

When the tide comes again you will be rested.

Yes, one day you will succumb.

To exhaustion, hypothermia, a rock, you could even become a snack.

But you see God or what ever it is you want to call it , is a narcissist.

So if you get to the end and he/she asks

"Did you see the reef?

Or that fish that has several colors?"

Tell me about the stars.

How, glorious those glistening gigantic waves were

How did it feel being in Poseidon's arms?

and you respond

"I was drowning"

You will find yourself, on a boat,

sun in your face ,being dropped into ocean.

By: Ndalwentle Makunga