Post-Apocalyptic Philosophy
or How to Achieve Peace through Self-Hatred
The key to inner peace,
Is self-hatred.
The old man said,
On the roof of the abandoned skyscraper.
Jeremy suddenly felt confused,
And concerned.
But Jeremy,
Recently divorced,
And an alcoholic,
In serious need of guidance,
Had already spent three weeks,
Navigating the maze of the bombed-out city,
To find this building,
Hiking up its crumbling steps,
Braving marauders,
And radioactive waste,
To meet the legendary old master at the summit.
He thought he should at least hear the guy out.
The old man continued.
So much effort is made,
To control the,
Very natural tendency,
To hate yourself.
But it is only when,
You give yourself,
To depression,
And melancholy,
That all becomes simple.
A man will second guess,
Everything about himself;
Am I smart enough?
Am I handsome enough?
Am I strong enough?
The mind struggles to justify,
These claims,
To make us believe,
In ourselves.
But he will never second guess,
His worthlessness.
The idea that he is,
Stupid,
Ugly,
Or Weak,
Will come as naturally to him,
As metal to a magnet.
There will be no,
Mental struggle,
The self-hatred,
Will wash over you,
Like a blanket,
And keep you warm.
You will know the folly,
Of ambition,
And love,
And money,
And faith.
The joys they bring are fleeting,
For joy itself,
Is fleeting.
Sorrow,
Is everlasting.
Give yourself to it,
Allow it to suck the passion,
From your soul,
Crawl into a dark hole,
As I have,
And sit there,
In peace,
Until you die.
Jeremy looked at the old man for a long time.
He asked,
“Do you need a hug?”
The old man slowly nodded,
As the tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.
Jeremy wrapped his arms around the old master,
And let him weep.
