Sometimes i wonder what is true, sometimes i wonder if it really matters
A million thoughts race through this thick skull of mine. Once again i think i'm almost done with this blog. I can put it behind, this wonderful place where i've learnt to throw all my rubbish into so i can be abit more sane when i do actually meet people.
The question that always bugs me is what do I want. Where am i going, and what will I do when i get there. I'd like to live life with a packed suitcase, always ready to move when I have to. I also picked things like love, the meaning to life, passion, to try and understand in my life, because these are the things that can never be answered, the questions that should keep me eternally occupied. And now i am starting to wonder if i'm bored of this. I probably am.
I wonder what I should do when my life has completely lost its focus, how do you go about fixing something when you've lost all reason to. Its simple to say put it together again, a little bit of glue, nail and a screw driver should fix it. But why make something that has no meaning anymore, sentimentality, because its all you knew, because its all you have?
We could all be better than this, we could all do better, but its just a matter of whether we have a reason to. My life has fallen apart, and i dont have enough of a reason to fix it, so i decided to live with a packed suitcase, or atleast i'm trying to. Call no place home, never let anyone shelter you, live for yourself, be hard, be cold, be ready to run when you have to. I'm getting used to this life, being where the wind blows, and letting go of everything, well almost everything.
Its like the Happy Prince, and U2's With or Without You, screaming and you give yourself away. How much can you give, how much is anyone deserving of your complete and utter scarifice. Sometimes i think, maybe i'll meet someone who i can give myself to, who i can be absolutely loyal and do anything for. I dont think anybody deserves that much from me, maybe now after everything, I think I deserve better, I think i have a right to be selfish, to ask and not give, to be and not belong.
Kundera asks, of lightness and weight, which is positive, of selflessness and selfishness, of good and evil, of all opposites, we have a percievd notion of what is positive and what connotes something negative. I think there is no positive and negative, i think there is, just what is. I feel nothing, and hence, suffer nothing for my existence. Living has gotten me so tired, sometimes i wonder if i'd be like Shadow, and ask for nothingness after i die, for the first time, i can understand why someone wouldn't want paradise and prefer vast nothingness instead.
If you would like to understand this, you must first wear yourself out and give yourself away until there is nothing left, and your body, heart and soul feel so fatigued, that you cant fight for anything you believe in anymore, you must be broken and damaged until as someone once put, even your own mother wont recgonise you, which sometimes i wonder if my mother sees in me the person she saw 1 year ago. You then need to lose everything that means something to you, and eventually conclude that nothing ever meant anything. You must also betray everything in your life because everything in your life has betrayed you, and then when there is nothing left, no ambition, no heart, no soul, so sense of your being in you anymore, and you are completely empty, you might understand that you both are one and the same, and the vast nothingness beckons and calls you, to rest from all the madness, and maybe you'd be safe from love, from faith, from hope, and redemption. You'd be safe from those things once so beautiful, colourful and entrancing that you thought were once the most wonderful things, but you found them to be like stumbling into a field of poppies. To a certain extent, the meaning to life is that it is meaningless, and empty, because God is dead, there is no more love. Maybe this is the cause of living in this generation, the generation of haves, of wants and needs, that when everything is so easily attainable, and you work your life, you work your heart, you work till you're ground to the bone for all these mass produced things, these things so commonplace, so meaningless, so unlike that spark of something unique you had in the beginning of your life, and now you're old, alone, and completely undistinguishable from the rest of those walking cadavers you hated once, so long ago.
Sometimes i feel like i'm not alive anymore, i crave the end. Once or twice people have made me happy in the last few months, so I avoid them. I dont really want to be happy or feel complete anymore. I almost dont want to feel that wanderlust that i did before, when everyday was an adventure. I almost dont want to fix myself and develop that carpe diem mentality. If anybody comes and changes this, they wont be saving me, they wont be making my life that much better, they'd just change one poison for another. Some days, i'm alright with this, i feel at peace, and i feel sometimes that i've made my peace with death. I can stop being afraid, i can stop hoping for change, i can stop hoping for tomorrow.
The question that always bugs me is what do I want. Where am i going, and what will I do when i get there. I'd like to live life with a packed suitcase, always ready to move when I have to. I also picked things like love, the meaning to life, passion, to try and understand in my life, because these are the things that can never be answered, the questions that should keep me eternally occupied. And now i am starting to wonder if i'm bored of this. I probably am.
I wonder what I should do when my life has completely lost its focus, how do you go about fixing something when you've lost all reason to. Its simple to say put it together again, a little bit of glue, nail and a screw driver should fix it. But why make something that has no meaning anymore, sentimentality, because its all you knew, because its all you have?
We could all be better than this, we could all do better, but its just a matter of whether we have a reason to. My life has fallen apart, and i dont have enough of a reason to fix it, so i decided to live with a packed suitcase, or atleast i'm trying to. Call no place home, never let anyone shelter you, live for yourself, be hard, be cold, be ready to run when you have to. I'm getting used to this life, being where the wind blows, and letting go of everything, well almost everything.
Its like the Happy Prince, and U2's With or Without You, screaming and you give yourself away. How much can you give, how much is anyone deserving of your complete and utter scarifice. Sometimes i think, maybe i'll meet someone who i can give myself to, who i can be absolutely loyal and do anything for. I dont think anybody deserves that much from me, maybe now after everything, I think I deserve better, I think i have a right to be selfish, to ask and not give, to be and not belong.
Kundera asks, of lightness and weight, which is positive, of selflessness and selfishness, of good and evil, of all opposites, we have a percievd notion of what is positive and what connotes something negative. I think there is no positive and negative, i think there is, just what is. I feel nothing, and hence, suffer nothing for my existence. Living has gotten me so tired, sometimes i wonder if i'd be like Shadow, and ask for nothingness after i die, for the first time, i can understand why someone wouldn't want paradise and prefer vast nothingness instead.
If you would like to understand this, you must first wear yourself out and give yourself away until there is nothing left, and your body, heart and soul feel so fatigued, that you cant fight for anything you believe in anymore, you must be broken and damaged until as someone once put, even your own mother wont recgonise you, which sometimes i wonder if my mother sees in me the person she saw 1 year ago. You then need to lose everything that means something to you, and eventually conclude that nothing ever meant anything. You must also betray everything in your life because everything in your life has betrayed you, and then when there is nothing left, no ambition, no heart, no soul, so sense of your being in you anymore, and you are completely empty, you might understand that you both are one and the same, and the vast nothingness beckons and calls you, to rest from all the madness, and maybe you'd be safe from love, from faith, from hope, and redemption. You'd be safe from those things once so beautiful, colourful and entrancing that you thought were once the most wonderful things, but you found them to be like stumbling into a field of poppies. To a certain extent, the meaning to life is that it is meaningless, and empty, because God is dead, there is no more love. Maybe this is the cause of living in this generation, the generation of haves, of wants and needs, that when everything is so easily attainable, and you work your life, you work your heart, you work till you're ground to the bone for all these mass produced things, these things so commonplace, so meaningless, so unlike that spark of something unique you had in the beginning of your life, and now you're old, alone, and completely undistinguishable from the rest of those walking cadavers you hated once, so long ago.
Sometimes i feel like i'm not alive anymore, i crave the end. Once or twice people have made me happy in the last few months, so I avoid them. I dont really want to be happy or feel complete anymore. I almost dont want to feel that wanderlust that i did before, when everyday was an adventure. I almost dont want to fix myself and develop that carpe diem mentality. If anybody comes and changes this, they wont be saving me, they wont be making my life that much better, they'd just change one poison for another. Some days, i'm alright with this, i feel at peace, and i feel sometimes that i've made my peace with death. I can stop being afraid, i can stop hoping for change, i can stop hoping for tomorrow.
posted by Seython at 8:21 am
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