What do I know. Nothing. At all. I follow a path narrow and steep with precipice a footfall away, all I can do is abide the way. It is terrifying at times, in times like these.
Two days ago on the westward path I had the sensation that my eyes lost their ability to see vibrant color, or, any color at all. I was walking east into downtown, a gravelly mist hovering about with the sun soon to be gone and suddenly I was horrified, startled beyond belief, everywhere my eyes gazed was white, black or gray. Sky - white. Buildings - white, gray and black. Cars - white, gray and black. I thought perhaps, wished it to be so, that it was a momentary glitch in the matrix of my mind, or perhaps an unforgettable moment of synchronicity. Minutes passed and as I continued to walk the general complexion of the scene remained the same. I feared I had gone colorblind, but no, LOOK, a bright red car! Then blocks of black and white and then an orange signboard, a color so ripe and pure it melted into the surrounding miasma giving it a ghoulish glow. Somehow, somewhere, the scene of desolation gave way to more cheerful moments and then I was almost, almost, back to normal upon reaching my abode.
The overall atmosphere of the city is one of contraction upon contraction, looping indefinitely. I get a sense of dreadful foreboding reaching deep into my bones, and then I unleash a wicked laugh, a laughter so perverse it startles my ears. I can't help it, I am now laughing at things I normally would not notice at all, all is laughter, the laughter of going mad! Mad with grief, mad with desire, mad with energy! It pulsates in body, mind and spirit. The warrior spirit has awakened, not only in the external world, but in me. I too, I now realize, am a spiritual warrior, and it paints its full expression in the external, material reality we call life. I am dejected that I am too old to follow the way which the ready-to-explode youth will lead.
And the shame. I am overcome with great shame. I see all too clearly my human weaknesses, so many I blush crimson when I think of them. So useless, such a useless life I have lived. All for what? A few pleasures of sense, a health rosy and full, all is fine in the world. Until one day it occurs that it is not right, not true. Day and night, birth and death. Death so skillfully out of sight, what was pain and cruelty in the distant past today is ease and plenty. What if, suddenly, it was swept away as if by a great flood, a flood of blood and warfare beyond comprehension. Then the laughter starts again and all goes quiet.
"Life and death are inevitable. Heaven gives them the constancy of day and night. And we can't alter any of it - it all belongs to the very nature of things. If we honor heaven as our father and love it deeply, imagine honoring something that transcends heaven. If we honor a ruler as our sovereign and offer up our lives for him, imagine honoring something truer than any ruler."
Chuang Tzu