Breaking Free

Yours is a life destined for success.
I do not belong here, in the same league as you.
My life is not calculated in cold numbers,
in artificial means,
fine-tuned to near perfection,
permutated into another successful story like yours.

I do not have the talent to be like you,
Yours being, a noble aspiration to us all.
I can only follow behind,
tracing your footsteps,
trailing an ardous path,
one which I can never catch up to.

I see a way out.
To sneak from behind,
to take away,
fame, fortune and power.
But this is not what success means to me.

I seek a different fortune,
venture a different route,
partake in a different journey.
Materialism brings no comfort to me,
neither can it fill up this void,
the one that I have been carrying.

You may see pity in my eyes,
That I am such a fool,
for not chasing in the rat-race,
that I have no purpose in life.

I have no wish to join this little game of yours.
That others have tried so hard to win,
only to realise that they are trapped within
another bigger game.

I shall step aside this time,
and watch them play.
Exhausting all their trickery,
only to be outwitted by the smartest,
the one who programmed them,
the puppet-master behind the scene.

My plans for a sojurn has begun,
degenerating my ideologies,
shedding away the many layers of myself,
deconstructing every bit of me that made
me who I am,

until I become nothing.

Then can I truly be free,
out of this pre-destined doom,
the one that had been waitng,
waiting ever since we came here.
For me,
for you,
and for everyone else.

(CP, 10.12.2006)