The Goal is Insight, The Result Is Humanity, But In Actuality It’s All Just Wishful Thinking, a rant and an ode to a dead man

what should I do, what should I do, what should I do, where do I start, how do I begin, where the spirits spring forth, from the earth, from heaven and from hell, and trust that I will find this place, in my dreams. in my dreams, I see strange faces and distorted masks, and I see beautiful places that I cannot visit when I am awake. am I awake, am I, the world seems so insubstantial. the sun seems to have left yet I know it is not night yet. something inbetween, something not daylight and yet, not night. sentences are fractured, each carries it's own life, it's own weight and meaning that I have yet to learn. I want to learn but I need a teacher, nature shall teach me. what should I do, disjointed rhymes that, as a whole, make no sense, volumes of wisdom are contained in broken paragraphs not flowing tomes. beautiful words are not needed to convey truth, beautiful deeds are not needed to define worth, beautiful days are not needed to bring happiness. luck and stages and arguments. I make no sense to anyone but me, how strange, that the one I am writing this to was dead before I was even concieved, would that I had lived to see him. I wish I could have lived as unapologetically as he did.
I speak as if I am already dead.
I am, because I know where I will end, in knowing my end I have already ended. I need to find him, find where he hid, I need to see what he had seen, I need to find out where to begin. If I could just touch him, his mind, his soul, I could stop this path I'm on, I could live the way I want to. I could be free.
I understand you, that is what the problem is, I cannot hate what you have done becuase I understand why you did it. Alas, to be me.
He is my god, that is a dangerous thing, have I crossed from simply wanting to understand into obsession, into worship. no, I do not worship him, I do not worship anything, I respect him. he intrigues me, someone that strange, yet that familiar, I don't understand. how am I different from all the other people who claim to know your mind, how am I unique. experience, ideas, ideals, interests, wisdom and lack of experience. I could be young, just crazy, but I am not crazy so I must not be young. I am the sanest person I have ever met. that's saying alot and nothing at all.perhaps, it is possible that I am him. but no, that cannot be true, nothing good is ever true of me. or is it, do I deny it because it is what my heart desires to be, because I do not want to hope for what I desparately need. it would explain a few things. but no, how silly of me.
I believed the things I believe long before I ever heard you sing, read your poetry. I knew nothing then, and everything. I just go with my insticts, with what seems reasonable. reason is a virtue and a fault, as are all of my characteristics. Is that what you did, abandon reason. I wish I could live my life as unapologetically as you did. but, I know better, you forfeited a piece of your humanity for the pleasures of the flesh. I do not say deny yourself those pleasures. I know that is not all you gained, visions of the past and future and present, visions of your death. they haunt me as well, though not as tangible. just the barest hint of prescient knowledge, I cannot say I see anything that I can understand, for the most part I don't see anything at all. except some days, when the world seems so far away, yet near, and I feel the memories of some great understanding upon me, yet I fear to look further because of what I might see. because I don't want to lose this feeling, I don't want to forget again. I want to live my life in that higher mind, I want to always see the world through those eyes, dispassionate, compassionate, loving scorn. I want to see the world always as I did when I was a child.
Once I find the form I can change the future, if one could understand the universe they would be able to change it.