Oblivion and darkness calls........

When does one first crave the freedom of the black pit of eternal oblivion? We come from nothing and return to nothing with a 'four score and ten' in between.....we don't ask for this and we do nothing to deserve this 'gift' of life. What becomes of those aborted souls and the potential lives that have never reached conception? Is every male ejaculate a doom filled spurt of incessant impossibilities? Each woman's period the same? We create the stuff for life and off it goes without reaching purpose. Orgasm. That little death. Is there therefore a dimension of spirits awaiting release? Filled with the pangs of jealousy that our own 'lottery winning' achievement of a life has given them? Do they ever achieve life and become either the successful goal searching individuals that shine within the light of humanity? Or do they become the searching individuals, those that never know their place...those for whom distrust, anxiety and depression is a daily companion.....a life shaping feeling of constant doom laden reflection? We have but one life.......if we end it do we join the queue to reincarnate ourselves for another chance in the lottery of birth? Another scratch card with infinitesimal chance of success? We are what we are......we are what we make of ourselves....the only one who can change you is you.....yes, I've heard them all. My companion in thought....must do better......must commit to the plan....must, must, must..... Where is the peace I cry out for? The drugs that calm my palpating heart, the shakes of the hands, the tremors in the throat as I meet a stranger passing by....is he the one? Why would he be the one? Is she the one? Why would she be the one? Passengers on a  tiny floating orb in the eternal cosmos......we shall be dust as are those before us? Who will remember my name in a thousand years? A thousand? Maybe grandchildren will remember my name if they appear. So, a hundred years? Will I live on? Do I have the same desire to live on in perpetuity as brave Achilles? I remember my mother's father but not my father's. He died the year I was born so he does not live on to any great extent within me.....a few memories passed on regarding his working life, pictures of his home where he brought up my father and his three brothers. Beyond that very little.....My mother's father I remember very well as I grew up with him a constant companion over weekends throughout my childhood. Would I return to that happy non-committal time? A freedom of sorts as the knowledge of the dredge of future life was not even imagined......would we swap our present for a replay of the past? Imagine the chance and then the realisation that once you were back there you could not change anything.... you are now a passenger within a movie..... everything the same....pre-ordained....karma. The same mistakes again. Would it be worth it? Or are we already travelling that path in a cosmic, ever-searching cycle of an almost altruic attainment of perfection? One life. One journey. Make of it what we can. Stay on the bus. Which bus? Down to you. To me. Timetables are changeable once you decide they can change. Or should that be 'are timetables changeable once you decide they can change'? Move the 'are' and we change the world.