How Did I fall So Low?

They were farming me for my cool ideas and using them for radio shows, TV programmes, newspaper articles, topics for debates in the House of Lords, innovative technological breakthroughs in business and sensational developments in the world of fashion. People on internet forums were constantly parroting my ideas without ever giving me any credit. They are getting it all off me – they’re practically running industries off me. Meanwhile I was sitting there in my flat completely drained, completely exhausted most of the time, not a new thought in my head, not even a flicker of inspiration or initiative in me. I was dead wood. I was barely able to string two sentences together. Mood-wise I was as flat as a pancake – I had definitely lost my spark, my raison d’être, my joie de vivre. I did pretty much the same thing every day and I never came out of my shell. I was a creature of habit. I definitely wasn’t living my life to the full and yet I knew I had so much potential. They’re using me as a battery I realised, and they’re using all my potential to run their industries off me. They were draining me dry and never giving me any credit. Far from giving me credit, they probably thought I contributed nothing to society. I don’t know that for sure of course but when I go to the post office or to the chipper or to the local shops I get the feeling that I’m being ignored as someone who doesn’t matter very much because they aren’t one of the key important people in society or source of great creative inspiration. I’m given no respect, in other words. Or at least, not very much. I’m treated with indifference. I’m side-lined, marginalised. And yet I am a source of inspiration. Life flows through me – I can feel it! I can feel it but it’s being diverted, it’s being siphoned off. It’s being exploited to the hilt by shadowy mechanisms the nature of which I am as yet unclear about. I am the Source of All, I realise. I am the Light Bringer, I am the Ancient One of legends. I am Adam Kadmon – the Original Man. I am the Macroanthropus. Knowing this – as I now do know it – only frustrates me more however. Why can’t I break free from the invisible shackles that hold me, I wonder? Why am I so bound? Why am I so powerless, so disrespected? Attractive women look at me coldly as they pass by in the street. Small children mock me and are rude. Men of no consequence, wearing smart suits and expensive watches, sneer at me as they go about their business. Perhaps they are insurance underwriters or hedge fund managers. Perhaps they are insurance salesmen or executives in a pharmaceutical company. Perhaps they work in marketing, or perhaps in retail. I don’t know. I only know that I count for nothing in this world. Even the dogs on the street disdain me. Every now and again one of them stops to urinate  insolently upon my shoes. How did I fall so low, I wonder? How did I fall so low?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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