When you have enough to start thinking about life, you wonder if it is a luxury, a pleasure, or a curse. You start to wonder what this whole thing is really about, as you sit in the darkness watching the screen on your phone hit five in the morning. You start to drift, wondering what day you are really in. You start to wander, and wonder. You question your path and your self, your identity and your life. You question why you are questioning. You question why the seams are being ripped apart. You question every moment, every memory, every plan you had dreamt up.
People love to chime in, they think they know what is best for you. You wonder if they do. Maybe there is something you can’t see, maybe something that you never have. Are you really even sane anymore?
The spiraling path of despair, the shattered glass on the stairs. Broken dreams, broken people. Aren’t we all broken people, forced to put on our masks? The world tells you to enjoy your youth, but there is no vitality anymore. The nostalgia, the reminiscing, the romanticizing of every detail of just the last day. When you begin to yearn for yesterday, everyday, you know you have broken out of time.
Breaking out of time you float endlessly equally amongst the violet clouds and the pits of hades. You are tormented by a deeper understanding, a deeper feeling. You feel more than others and weep over the tragedies of life that other people don’t seem to see. You fight to tell yourself that you are normal, but you aren’t. You do not want to be normal, if you were normal you would not be here, you would not be alive.
Floating like a body in the sea, looking up at the sun, your mind simultaneously races and empties. You wonder if you should be feeling this. You wonder if you should be feeling anymore. Oh to not feel as so few do. Whether you want it to be or not, it is you. You cannot escape your very identity, your very being.
You know you have to be up soon, but who cares? You will just run on autopilot, going through the motions like you always have. You will wonder why you have to face another day, why God is keeping you here, if you are being punished. You blame yourself, perhaps. Yet how can you blame your core? You cannot leave the thing which keeps following you, your mind. Is it really all in the mind though?
When you look in the mirror and feel the heaviness in your chest, you realize that there are some thoughts, some emotions, some memories and experiences that go beyond what normal people can endure. So like a battered ship, scarred, you know you can only take so many more hits. You wonder why nobody sees this, or why they do and don’t care. You keep giving it your all every day, which progressively declines against your wishes, against your will. A car on empty can only run for so long before it crashes, and the driver ends in flames. The soul can only push the body so hard, I know.
Your willpower only gets you so far, so you just end up in what seems like a never ending level between reality, and you wonder if it will ever really end.
