why does my stomach have to be flatter?
why do my legs have to be slimmer?
why do my arms have to be extremely toned?
why does my spine have to pop when i bend?
why does my skin have to be spotless?
why am i consumed by all these trivial things?
why do i care so much about a body
that will ultimately wither and die?
why, just why, is perfection so bloody important
that i lose my sanity over it?
there are two voices
one’s at war with itself and the other,
and one’s just there, being.
those are my ego and my soul.
the ego is an animal,
ravenous, brutal, shameless;
the soul is a sky,
present, content, unlimited.
right now, the ego is pulling me
by its roars and dumb logic and
unending attachment to its desires.
i can hear my soul, my Self, in the background,
and i really do not like it being the back sound
rather than the lead.
i’m distressed and in deep misery,
and the problem is that i am so
because of the state of my Self,
and if i am so then i am my ego
because those emotions and thoughts and fears
are all from the ego.
they can’t come from anywhere but the ego.
and now i’m more angry because i hate the ego
and i do not want to live my life through it.
but i am. i am speaking through it right now.
i just want Soul but i don’t know how to get there.