Vindication of my title

I felt I was superhuman once. Punched by the mere existence of things that did not make sense I was partly compelled by the innacuracy and inability of my comprehension with the reality that existed and the one that I believed in. It was the ignorance that pulled me down to inept form of reasoning that I drove my own mind to illogical conclusions. My thoughts dwindled around an unformed axis of randomness unable to find a source. Every thought and the roots which gave birth had no originality but was merely a reflection of others judgements. An thus the unprecendented and unexpected decisions which took place in my head were a crystallization of experience rather than a product of self creativity. To crack in to deeper analysis of my own flow, from the insipid and mundane to the spiritually enlightening and thought provoking...everything boiled down to the same level. There was no spectrum of analysis, there is not. Only mediocrity. And yet I choose as we all do to classify extremes for our every action, every thought. Nothing could be born out of nothing. Things work on the principle of the law of thermodynamics.

A sense of constance. Of stagnancy yet violence in itself. An undefined paradox that is ceased to believe but yet exists, like god. I am equipped with every knowledge there is in this world...in fact everyone is. This is no philosophy, no mythology. Coz eventually nothing exists, but everything does. We encouter anoher paradox.

I'm not superhuman. I barely know what it means. For that i'll have to search for the greater definition of humans, of humanity. Yet a stubborn belief is born in me that says that I could find all the answers sitting here or maybe there, by just opening the minds eye. Answers by staring into the light, staring at the sun. By looking at nature, a bleeding vein, by answering your own questions. I know that sense of completion is not gonna set in. There is no suicide, no giving up. A thrist is to be quenched, its destiny has been written. Nobody knows what it is.

Yet I once again stare at a light. Waiting for something to happen. For the universe to implode in a speck of dust, but how long do I wait. And I see before the light the glass that contains the lumina, and it reflects nothing. It just shows off what it has. Be it darkness, be it light. It will live no matter what, It'll give light contained in it. It wont respond unless its life and its functions are thwarted upon. But it persists to its completion. Even a tube of light has an objective.
Then why cant I!

Trying to be on more sane terms - I do believe in god. I do believe he does not play with dice.
There is a master plan. Nobody knows. I dont intend to unravel even if given the powers.
But control is never an independant virtue, its a smeared web.

I believe someone read this and someone did understand.
I crave for distinction to a point of make believe.

I felt I was superhuman once!

[its 2 in the morning and I think I've been hit on the head.]