November 28, 2016 · 10:16pm
I have this thing in mind… a very chaotic notion; perhaps some kind of oppression… that had been going on in my mind lately. Or shall I say, — every now and then. And it’d since then been aggravating me a lot, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it is; nor what to do about it.
My thoughts are a mess. And I am a disaster. I subconsciously do things I know I wouldn’t really do on purpose. They say that we have our own volition… but I could not believe them; I do not choose to think, but I cannot escape these thoughts. I had given up hope on everything; I couldn’t care less whatever happens. I do not care about anything. At all. I could probably go past these torment and out of such predicament without shedding a tear from the eye; without even a single cringe. I wasn’t stranger to pain, but I wasn’t numb, either. Or so I thought; because I know I shouldn’t. I am indifferent and I wasn’t supposed to be. I am human and was supposed to feel. Because if I don’t, what would be the point of being alive, then?
But still, I could screw the world over, and shut people out without looking back and feeling a thing. Not even a guilt. I felt nothing. But… how come? I want nothing, feel nothing. I am nothing. How could I? I am dangerously empty. Hollow, even. I am the void that wraps up my very own.
Perhaps this was indifference.
Maybe I was only stoic because I am no stranger to all this; it’s not at all new to me. It couldn’t surprise me more… I’m so used to all these. –so sick and fed up. I’ve grown jaded enough already to still give a
damn. These no longer bother me,– in any way. Not even a little. I can never be more affected; let alone upset. That despite all the unpredictability of life… I still know what’s going to happen in the end. It always goes down to one thing. That exact same thing.
And I still do not know… whatever was the causation of these improbable shambles of my own thoughts… Or whether it was only a state of happenstance; a chance. But knowing so would never really do, either. And knowing would be the end of me. Half the time… I was usually presented by the answers I do not want to know; the truths I do not seek. And maybe that’s the reason why I’m such a mess. I’m constantly being trapped in my very own chaotic thoughts like I always did.
But I cannot understand if this was just me, merely jaded. Or I, in the face of indifference. But I am both; the life proved me so. And it remains indefinite whether or not I just really know life well enough, and accepted that everything is passing through. That we are all just passing through… Or maybe things just stopped mattering so much. Because it turned out to be the norm, and nothing matters anymore…
And I’ve settled in my own chasm; and have forgotten how to live… Because doing so would never really make any difference. I was absolutely jaded to the point that I couldn’t even recognize my very own existence and what would I ever live for.
There is nothing. There is nothing here for me. I merely exist… that is all; nothing more. And perhaps, saying so would give life a reason to get me back my sanity. A little mercy, maybe? But no, not really. Being obliterated was no reason to take away this existential madness. –The life might say.