Remember this?

Initially, I always thought life was easy, that it was some walk on the
beach. Sure, I stepped on a shell from time to time, but that which
surrounded me and the experiences as I walked along brought bitter joy to my
life. Joy that only later may be the means of my demise. Little did I know
that the sun sets around 18. As I walk along the shores of the sea of life
in the darkness of eternity, I feel like a lowly part of the cold air, which
surrounds me. The very air that people depend upon from day to day due to
its many good qualities, yet never acknowledge or appreciate its presents
and the importance of such. Why so bleak you ask? Let me expound upon the
means of such a dark revelation.
School begins, school ends, every day is like the next. One hundred and
eighty days of nothing special. Sure, you have the every now and again
revelation, yet these are mere moments that only are specks in the grand
picture of nothingness. Details are unimportant, for how can you explain
the experience of the same from day to day, an experience that every citizen
has the pleasure to enjoy and account for on their own. The specks are what
I want to emphasize, one in particular.
One point in particular seems quite jagged and I think smoothing such edges
may add to this grand picture. The name of this speck is Abaddon. Her
appearance went along with such an exotic name. The only problem was an
issue with attention. She looked at me like I mine as well have been the
wall. So I became the wall, the wall that kept her safe from what I saw may
be bad for her. She had no idea I did such, but I made sure she knew I at
least existed. Through my many good deeds and few undoings, I found myself
on a closer level with this exquisite creature, friends.
Friends is the term describing the relationship between two people who come
together for the common good of each without a deep emotional bond. That
bond is that for which I looked. What did I do you ask? Little more than
give of both money and myself. She took further notice until one day when
she hit the wall, my possessive self, and realized the scary fact that had
existed in the past. At this point, I realized any wall from then on must
go for us to move further together, as we did, bound and boundless.
Ah yes, teen love, little more than an attempt to mature. Nevertheless, I
do not wish to discount the great experiences with Abaddon. She and I had
great times together. The time we spent together could be described as none
less then what I felt as ecstasy. May I remind you of the definition of
ecstasy- a mental state, usually caused by intense religious experience,
sexual pleasure, or drugs, in which somebody is so dominated by an emotion
that self-control and sometimes consciousness are lost. I was all of this.
We had such times full of ecstasy, but looking back on such times, I have
come to realize the true connotation of the word.
As I said, bound and boundless we progressed together on our separate
paths. Abaddon grew more into herself as I did too. I became too absent of
consciousness to come to any realization of the true consequences of my
actions. Sure, I was popular; sure, I had the dream girl, yet in the end
nothing mattered, because she left me. Why you ask? Quite a question, why?
journalists are taught the five w's, who? what? where? when? and above all,
Why?, the most potent of them all. The question, whose answer gives the
inner workings of the souls of an action or event, its very core, ended up
being my demise. Why had I been so wrapped up in her?
Abaddon was beautiful. This was my main mistake. Like many traps, her
flair and attraction are the only reasons for me coming near to her. I was
the poor animal that was caught. Yes, a mere animal I was. I allowed my
primal instincts to win. She had me from hello. I needed nothing further;
she spoke English and had an incredible body. Lust is avarice for the body
and the actions between two. Oh what sweet avarice. We both enjoyed each
other, but only later do you come to realize the true meaning of such
action. Sex is the epitome of human existence. Everybody has heard the
question, "What is the meaning of life?" My response consists merely of a
single word: Survival. What else? Sex accomplishes such by thereby
ensuring the survival of yourself through your genes, yet at such a young
age and ensures a partner that will increase chances of survival I found
exactly the consequences of such actions. Contraception prevented the
physical "mistake" that may occur; yet, so many people worldwide do not
realize the psychological effects. Sex is meant to occur within a bond that
is to be kept. Admittedly, so, there are those who do not see it as such,
yet with such a heart in the larvae stage of its putrid development, such
prevention is impossible.
After "the time," things seemed great and we felt great, yet I did not
account for age. Like so many vile hearts, hers too showed its true,
indifferent face. It gave way and allowed me to be replaced by another.
Alas, for I, having felt too much, now feel so little. I no longer feel
that assurance in the progression of life. My meaning has lessened. For I
had experienced the final assurance of the meaning of my life only to find
out how faulty a bottom such a promise presents. At this point, I went
through what many declare as "depression," yet I merely saw it as extremely
pensive thinking. Friends whom I had once ignored tried to cheer me up, yet
nothing came about. I knew always that I had the choice to move on, yet
that thinking is what I found to enjoy most. Walking alone on the
shell-ridden sands of the blood lit moon surrounded by the tears of the
heaven, only to have the wind, that which I felt so close with to be that
which slapped me with cold kisses. This was life, as I knew it, all due to
that speck, Abaddon in the nothingness of life.
Fear not, for I found that beach one too many times. Each time in a mood
of pensive thinking only to find later that the fact is everything is dying.
Yes, dying. I now find it funny to hear people speak of "living to the
fullest" when in actuality you are dying. It may be 50 years from now; it
may be within the next minute, either way you are dying. Look at the
connotation of such a word, dying, truly a negative word within society.
Living is merely a (word that is designed to lessen the negativity of a
phrase) for dying. The question actually is: what is the meaning of death?
The meaning, my friend, is a good means of dying. The beach that I once
told of seemed like such a bleak place, but look at it not directly, but
subjectively from a positive point of view. The sea shells that I step on
only make my feet harder and abler to withstand larger pain that may come in
the future, the looming moon is a loyal friend who does its best to light my
path wherever it may follow me, and the frigid wind itself, the force I felt
so in tune with is merely that extra push offered for free, actually enjoys
just existing and needs nothing from others for it to help and move on its
path. I know the sunset, but as in the grand cycle of life, or death,
however you perceive it, the sun must both rise and set. As for Abaddon,
she is the sea, which I shall look and close near to, yet never touch. For
the seas may all look alike, but the wonders and demons alike that dwell
beneath differ from shore to shore, beach to beach.