As the Eye of Providence..

I believe my existence is solely to be of aid to others. I swore to sacrifice anything and everything both readily available to me and out of my reach. It's rare I experience an attitude of reluctance when coming across unanticipated realizations that there is something more to be offered away. I feel so positively about my believed purpose that I rarely hold resent. There is not a plausible remonstration as to whether or not I personally want to sacrifice my insignificant life for the benefit of mass populations. In the reality of the situation, it doesn't matter what my selfish raptures are. I whole-heartedly enjoy my path, and would likely strive to be on it had I not been born with bestowed direction.

Ten minutes ago I was lying in bed listening to acoustic Marilyn Manson at an attempt to calm my mind for sleep. The superiority of my conscious was directing me to not sleep yet, instead to create something beautiful. The disengaged part of my conscious argued that I had already created something beautiful today, and supported with that today was a quite productive today considering how unproductive it could have been. Still, my mind shredded itself and left me completely torn.

I was experiencing reluctancy to follow through with my duty. Daily, there is an underlying choice on whether or not I go the extra distance to achieve productivity worthy of supporting my declarations. Claiming I've taken the path of sainthood means utterly nothing without those underlying choices being selfless ones.
 
My alarm was set for 11AM from the previous morning, but I concluded that I needed to rise a little earlier. For the first time in my life—except for on the eve of a holiday where I would be given gifts—I was excited about waking up early the next morning. I had no extraordinary reason, unless you count that I had determined I would wake and create something beautiful, something more beautiful than what I constructed today. I needed as much time as possible, but then I found myself here— at 5:30 AM.

Back on the couch, back on my laptop that cannot be unplugged without dying.. Somehow that illustrated reality could be transformed into a self-descriptive metaphor, but oddly enough I have no desire to create metaphors right now. By using metaphors so frequently in my essays, I get to express humor in a way that few can comprehend my exact intent, and to me that's gladdening in a way that's actually not condescending at all. My point is that even in the act of writing, sometimes I must be effectively selfless. I'd rather be sleeping, but I'd much rather be helping you.

I envisioned myself lying in bed simply listening to my iPod while the prospect of doing something greater swirled in my head, but in my daydream I witnessed wings of no specific stereotypical alignment. No white feathers, no rubbery bat skin. My idea of a savior isn't something you'd be able to snap a photo of looming over the Vatican, and it's also not Raziel from the popular video game Soul Reaver. It's nothing typical because it's really nothing at all but an idea, a theory, a whatever you want to call it that makes you comfortable in believing it's true.

Humankind can be depicted by the Eye of Providence in it's later use, saviors are part of the same system as men [part of the pyramid], perched as a single division at the top to watch over the rest. What better proof that my theory is true than a glance at the back of a dollar bill, what humans of all religions worship [money]? Come up with explanations or lack thereof by religiously denying, but whether or not you avoid spending money on a certain day or live below your means, you have no escape from the reality that is your greed, but that's okay. I lack religion, therefore I shall never condemn you for your humanity.