Before he went to sleep, he thought the same thought he always thought.  It was a bittersweet thought, a reflection, really.  A yearn, a call for help to an abyss, a slight beg to the universe of which he still was not convinced would really help him as long as he stayed where he was:

When am I going to realize that how I have been living, this balanced approach, is just not working?

Sometimes, the voice would respond:

(Why do you want life to be easy?  You have one opportunity.  This isn’t like all the other cliché opportunities you fake to strive for during life.  This life, in itself, is a one-time deal.  Why do you want to be comfortable?)

It was the same back and forth, his spirit understanding its limitations, knowing it controls all of this being, this man, except for his physical body, his physical decisions.  Checks and balances.  He could be motivated all he wanted, but it was his body and its fear that kept him planted.

Truth is, the meaning of his life depended either on the extent to which he would push himself or on the compassion and assistance of his fellow human beings.  And the latter half of his divide, the helping half, was disgusted, dejected…

Why help those whose problems are superficial?

And that was the crux of his dilemma, and why he was stuck in this place:  Who really had to struggle in this country that he was born in and living in?

Certainly everyone he knew had troubles, but they created them.  In a natural sense, in the order and laws of nature and of spirit’s world of energy, not one of these worries had any significance.  They all, at their core, were problems tied to finances, that devious human creation and, as he felt:

You reap what you sow.

Who, in this western society, really worried about anything of matter, really struggled with anything of importance, outside of those who have dedicated themselves to the life-long pilgrimage of communion with nature?

He realized, long ago, that he had lost all hope for, all faith in, all curiosity for, all interest in humans, and humanity.  And, every night, before going to sleep, whether drunk high sober or having just recently completed the fornication with a beautiful creature of the opposite sex, his spirit tried to rise above and past this overwhelming feeling:

This life isn’t working because I cannot help those who will not help themselves.

 
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(written with pen on paper)