Note: This isn’t a poem – like most other peoples in here – but, however, it is a poetic statement I felt the need to communicate. I only spent a few hours on this – it could be better – but I felt that it was an adequate summary of my overall failure to fit in with the world. I know … that my mortality is approaching, and that soon what I have beseeched with such relish for such a long duration of time is finally dawning. By the way, who knows though, I might write a few more of these before I commit suicide. “... It isn’t the external communication of one’s qualities that matters; it is the internal communication of those qualities, which never even get the chance to be voiced, that matters. All those abstract inner-emotions, far too deep and rich in distillation to even be articulated or insofar as remotely understood… But of which, get re-disbursed and re-propagated throughout the “hardwiring,” the mechanics, and the frontier of our consciousness on a regular basis – efficaciously and unfettered in sequence – a spectacular diffusion of occurrences and procession of chemical reactions, defining the subtle boundary between our deepest emotions, and the incredible architecture of the brain. The contention over what constitutes the quality of a human being’s character and their overall personality, is not a measure of counteracting external interfaces between bodily peoples – and quite frankly, we ought not to judge a person’s ethical rectitude and underpinning off of this criterion. There are too many complications which transpire on this level to make it a malleable reference for from which to be reaching such prodigious assessments and opinions about people: Deprivation, lack of fortune at place of birth, lack of resources or shelter, or some kind of health condition, or some other problematic dominion overbearing one’s circumstances can completely obfuscate this methodology. You can’t judge a book by its cover, you must delve within the interior of it as the old saying goes … and the same metric applies relative to people. The internal connection between people – and even animals as well – transpiring within the brain – this great tapestry and reservoir of human sensibility, emotion, and personality – is nature, or God’s work depending on how you want to view it. And I submit that the judge of what is good, what is moral, and what is grand, ought to be decided by nature/God, and not by other humans. In my life the latter has failed to recognize any of those characteristics within me (what is good, what is moral, what is grand, and the like…,) while the former has recognized every single one of them within me. I feel, therefore, that I belong with nature/God, that I deserve to rejoin it …, instead of people."