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The Last Face

The Last Face

Can one man save the world? No, impossible, I can't even begin to imagine how that is conceivable. It takes one extraordinary person to save the world. We cannot just wantonly pick a man off the street and expect him to overcome all obstacles that we should set against him. All those in the cinema have been driven to superhuman extents, either by superior willpower, an incredibly strong guilt, or the encouragement of friend or a loved one. In fact, much is impossible for the everyday man. The everyday man is boring, drole, stupid and foremostly lazy, a trademark of human civilization that as we discover more about the universe that we dehumanize the brave, the valorous, the benevolent, the honorable and forget the meaning of virtues as they are.

Please, do not judge me as a hypocrite, for I in fact realize a great number of my flaws and my greatest one. This in being that even if I would be blessed to know all of my flaws, I would be unable to correct them. I am indeed a shallow, horrible man and spend my days moaning of my sorrows, dreaming of women's curves, and sophistication of material things.

I used to be intrtospective, a being that never lived in the real world, but in something far more than that, a personal universe devoid of sadness and anger, a place where the words "not good enough" and "failure" would never hold power against its citizens, but that side of me has long died away along with my ability to be creative, to become inspired, to realize wonderful potential and actually work long enough to crank out some work of art, some gem that others would appreciate, would judge as "beautiful" or "masterful."

Yet now, I am nothing more than a hollow shell of a man. Completely like my "otherself" as others would say it. I cannot cope with being last, first, or anywhere in the middle anymore. What has happened to me? Don't ask, for I cannot even begin to fathom the reasons. I am a crippled soul, a worm of an excuse for a human being. I constantly find it beneficial, though it may not be, to actively deprive myself of pleasure if I believe I am putting what little pathetic reputation, please take your time laughing, I have all day, I have at risk. What can such a man do with his life? I have no real dream. I have no real goal. Nothing to shoot for, save a wife and kids and a happy life. Hah! Impossible I say. What woman would have me? I have nothing honorable to claim to my name save a dim intelligence that rarely functions at the accepted standard of human thought. Indeed, of all my horrors, there are few that I believe are under me, or that I do not deserve. Almost all of them have somehow placed themselves above me, each time with a deep, bitter sting whose pain seizes my body, without stopping lest I let it intensify even further due to my own follies and misplaced hopes. My only respite is laughter and the suffering of others, usually intertwined.

Have a nature as such, how can I claim at the least to be a follower of Christ, let alone God? I am sinful, dirty, and foremostly a bane to the others around me. I dare not air my grievances in a serious matter amongst my fellows for fear of scorn, or mockery. In recent times, I have tested and discovered that this is quite true. None can comprehend it and any protests I might have could only serve to further myself as the butt of ridicule. This is all I am, some foul beast less than human. Of this, I have considered deeply. I do not deserve to stay upon this Earth. It is only a grace of God that I continue to live, with the idiotic, barbaric things that I do, say, think. What worth do I have? I am the Human Parasite. I leech the blood from everyone I come in contact with. A dog, a bloody dog I am. Void of intelligence, bereft of wit, lacking in strength, and deprived of worth unearned. This indeed is my truest face.

I would like to detail this in recent examples, but whenever I try to begin, a pain grips at my heart and I can't bear to write any further.