Let’s start with another story

I have, for most of my Adult life, tried to find meaning in anything that I’ve been able to. Music, movies, stories, random occurrences in my everyday life. They weren’t really the glue that held me together but more the bolts that would hold me together as whatever glue that I thought was holding me together dried.

That glue, still isn’t dry, and the bolts, well, they aren’t really holding anymore. 

So what do you do when nothing makes sense and everything is trying to tear you apart? You die. 

You let it happen, you let the world consume every aspect of you but who you are because that is what you’re here to do, exist and be as the world would mold you into whatever it would have in mind. 

Sidenote: I use the phrase “world” to be as non-dogmatic as possible. I tend to keep religion to faith more than anything else. 

So why do i tell you all this, why to I write words of introspection without revealing a thing about myself, except my discomfort with unknown insecurities? Easy. This is legitimately all i know how to do anymore. I wasn’t built to build worlds, because i’d get too caught up by the sites and sounds of a single moment perpetually hanging. Knowing the difference between what I should do and want to do is a wider gap then the that of the rich and poor. Reality stops existing as its perceived by most, its no longer what we make of it, but rather what it makes of me. I lost the battle to life. It was long and bloody and full of beautiful music, and now nothing makes sense. 

I thought for a long time, that if i kept moving forward, if I didn’t have to feel what it wanted me to feel, i could just chug myself along like those dudes who row crew. Yes, they look like douchey tools, but they certainly know how the pistons of the engine work with their bodies to the sound of someone just telling them to keep going in a direction they could not see. To push ahead even though the world was blind to me, it was all the relative different side of the same coin and I’m not sure where i wanted it to land at any given point. But it was the same every time, life will hurt because its supposed to. 

So by that logic, my mind should be used to this pain because it is so accustomed to it. Things will go as they are supposed to and they will be for the best, but the anguish… this consistent despair that literally has not purpose for existing, it doesn’t want to go away. How do you deal with something, that won’t let you enjoy anything that happens in your life?

You let it numb you to the point where there’s no reason to enjoy it, but you find solace in the little things and that works for a while. People being kind to one another, children allowed to be children, the pleasantness of sunshine and the beauty of the natural world. But even those are hard to come by sometimes, so even subconsciously, there’s nothing left to make me feel like I am in any way alive. 

I’m constantly reminded of how real something like this is, how fucking insane its existence is. How big a fucking joke it seems to me sometimes when I try to get out of these episodes, where everything around me, will just want to make me want to die, painfully, just so i know what it feels like. When walking into a duane reade, and the first thought is, “they have syringes and things i could probably kill myself slowly with here” and immediately realize how ridiculous the thought is, is scary no matter the number of times you tell yourself, that you are okay, and there’s something wrong, but pay it enough attention, to its habits and its ways, and anything can be understood to the point of acceptance. 

Does that sound at all right to you? Does it sound like rational thinking on behalf of a human existing? 

Well, no… it shouldn’t, because its the opposite of rational. But if everything hurts, how can anything be rational? 

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