I always had the feeling that my ideal type of living is where I only depend on myself, help others, save others, and cheer others. I wanted to shine, be unlike the rest, and think of others before me, that's what I thought was perfect, that's what I thought I will be, that's what I became.
However, the more I gave in to others, the more I let others win, the more I felt the pain and anguish dwell up inside me. I used to dismiss these calls by telling myself "you're not being sincere if you have these grudges", and somehow or the other, these thoughts diminish.
But now, these little calls, that tells me to exact revenge on my foes, to fulfill my lust, to satisfy my body, these mere little calls, have turned into a haunting voice that no longer fades away, one that lingers in that one particular corner of my mind, the one that keeps calling out to me, seducing me with it's own sweet promises. Not only did the sounds became more abundant, yet I felt as if what it said was true after all, that I should have a fair share in this world, that I should have that respect and authority I was granted.
It all looked perfect on paper, that I would put myself before others, and only cared about myself, I wouldn't care about this world a single bit. I mean, why should I? It didn't give a damn about me, I was suffering in the darkness trying my best to take away the darkness that clouded the people I cared for, but nobody, no single freaking person gave me gratitude for it.
Then somehow, that young kid that brought about the thoughts of equality, happiness and conforming to others kicked in, and somehow that perfect plan of being apathetic suddenly crashed, and thoughts of guilt and disgust gushed out, tearing the very essence of my soul. I couldn't bear the pain, I wanted to run, I wanted to hide, I wanted to die.
After a whole lot of time of finding myself, I pieced my mind back together, picked myself off the ground, and decided that change will come. So it did, for the better, but that joy was short-lived. Soon, that gripping call of the devil came back, this time harder than ever, and much harder to resist.
My unselfish thoughts clashed with selfish thoughts of mine, and what manifested was a huge gaping hole in my chest, that wanted everything, that needed everything, that would consume everything, just wishing for the pain to go away. I tried fighting it back, but countless times it came back, and devoured me whole again.
Something then kicked me real hard, my religion. It said that the human flesh is weak, but the spirit is strong, and that one should not live by his own powers, but rely on God's. It made perfect sense, it seemed like the perfect solution, it was the perfect solution, and I searched for it, but still, it all comes down to naught, and that manifestation of emptiness within me was far from quenched.
Even now, this pain still lingers, the void in my chest, the feelings of hedonism, the torment that would rip me apart. Maybe I should stop living on my own power, and submit to God, but even after I did, that salvation I still search for seems like a mirage, one that can never be grasped.
Or was it my mistake all the while? That even when I surrendered myself to God, deep in my heart I still had these thoughts of relying on myself, and that placed a barrier between me and God? Or was it all the while, I had never even mean to surrender to God, and only at times of need I came up to him, merely treating him like a panacea for my pains?
I need answers, I need salvation, I need God.
