Ruminations on the human condition

I warn you before
You join me here, old friend
This piece isn't like any other
For my rhymes and words
Here aren't really meant
To be always present with each other
This is a piece that's introspective
Just like many before and many that'll come
But it's also a piece set in first person
In which to myself, I speak not
This is to the world, to my friends and those
For whom I care the most
This is a message from within my soul
This is a letter to whom it may concern
I once thought about myself
The dark fantasies that grip my twisted mind
I once believed I could never escape them
I once believed I could never survive
I was once suicidal, filled with guilt
Over things that I didn't cause
I once hoped that I could commit
But I was a coward after all
I feared what came after death
I feared the beyond
I feared looking my mother in the eyes
And telling her that her son gave up
I'm no longer that way, it's been a while at least
I've grown beyond what I once believed
I live now in a fantasy
One that's still dark to a degree
But I am in control
I imagine the universe beyond
How vast it is, yet I am so small
I wonder if anything I've ever done will leave a lasting impact
Or if I've ever grown up at all
But in all honesty, and I know
It matters not what the long-term is
It matters not what I believe
What matters the most, in true essence
The impact that behind me I leave
The smiles that I caused
The beautiful expressions on the faces
Of fellow humans that I've left with my words
Or the sadness that eventually replaces
For an emotion only matters
If its opposite is present too
Because if one thing exists without an opposite
We don't perceive it as true
Health and illness
Life and death
Dark and light
Safety and risk
I've come to learn that the most twisted of minds
Those who produce the most horrific of thoughts
Those who are authors of horror movies
Or books
Or TV shows
I've realized that H.P. Lovecraft
A genius and a madman as he was
I realized that all he wrote
All he once knew and thought
Was still human, after all
We humans cannot write what's beyond human
Our greatest fears are bound in comprehension
Or lack thereof
Our worst impulses come from miscommunications
There's a reason many of us claim they're lost
We know not what to do next
The uncertainty is the horror that guides our souls
We know not truly what comes after being put to rest
Our speculations or beliefs are why we wake up every morn
They're why, even if we believe that it's a better place to which we go
We still mourn the ones who are lost
It is impossible for humans to write that which isn't born of human
It is impossible for our imagination to picture what's more
We seek to comprehend everything
Despite our place in the universe being so small
We believe ourselves superior
To all the beings
That aren't like us seekers
We seek knowledge most
We covet understanding our roles
We believe what we wish to
We search for meaning in the dumbest of things
I once caught myself staring at a lamppost
Trying to imagine the entire cycle from which it was born
But it matters not
Or maybe it does
I don't know or care to know
Back then I was a seeker
Now I'm expected to impart
What do I know?
Who am I in this world?
I am nothing but a tiny spec of dust in the ever-expansive cosmos
Yet I'm still capable of helping my fellow humans
It is a true oddity, the human condition that is
We perceive what we perceive
It's the only way to live