Jul. 12, 2018 • 6:50pm
Sometimes sadness is so enormous that you feel it everywhere; in everything you do… That it can swallow you anywhere you go. It follows you. It’s always there everywhere you go. I feel like I can no longer write anymore. Or do anything on my own. I feel like… I feel like it can get to me anytime and I can do nothing but give up. I feel like I can’t handle this anymore. It’s dragging me down… and little by little I sunk. I do not know what to do… I do not know what to do.
I realized sadness is not a place; nor it is a thing. It is a feeling. And yeah, maybe I’m the only one…– the only living human not to know about that. And I, too, am a fool. I try everything… try everything to flee. But I cannot. I just can’t. It feels so heavy… So heavy that I can barely breathe. I feel my chest tight; as if some huge rock was onto it. This… this pain is so very unrealistic. Unforgivable. I feel like I’m going to cry, but no tears would come out. One moment I wanted to scream, the next moment I want to vanish. I wanted to vanish into thin air.
And then I can’t.
But if only I can, I would.
I am exhausted. Exhausted living. Trying to know what this life is all about. Seeking… Searching meaning and answers. But not even one would show up. I am deserted. I wish… I wish I could just die without any trail. I wanted to go…. Somewhere far far away from here. I wanted to go to the stars if that is even possible. I wanted to die with them. Even though I’m not worthy. Or maybe go to the moon; ask her why she feels empty. Be at her side; try to understand her. I wanted to lay there… Just lay there. With no gravity; nor oxygen. I wanted to die there. With no one to see me, no one to be there. I wanted to be alone. To die alone. I want to let myself be.
And eventually this tired body of mine will rot, and I hope there is no worm there… For I am scared. Scared of them. Always scared of little things. Of petty little things… Even scared of myself sometimes. Of what I can, — and cannot do. See, I am crazy. Lost my sanity a long time ago… Been like this for a while now. And I hate this. I hate me. I so so hate…. Myself.
One moment I wanted to go back to sleep, the next moment wanted to scream. One moment I wanted to scream; the next moment I wanted to see the stars and go there. That’s just me… Me and my insanity. I do not know how to get hold of reality anymore and I can’t stand it.
I do not know where to start. I do not know where to go back to. There is nothing for me here… This place is not for me. I do not belong here. I am… I am… Lost. Always like this. I do not know what to do. I’m always alone but why I feel so alone? Right now. I feel like my heart is breaking into million pieces… and I can’t fix it. But I love fixing things. How the hell I wasn’t able to fix my own heart? My own soul? How do I start? What do I do? Please somebody tell me what to do. I can’t even dare pick up the broken pieces, I’m afraid I’ll bleed. I am numb, but I still bleed? But I’m not afraid of pain…. The pain is in me. I am pain. And I hate myself.
I should heal this broken heart of mine but I’m afraid I do not know how. I cannot go around wearing this. One’s heart should be whole. Not broken; not shattered. I hope I can wear mine even just a half. But how do I share mine when it’s not even whole to start with? How do I love when I, myself do not love who I am?
But I should know who I am.
And that’s the thing. That’s always the thing. I do not know who I am, nor whom I should be. I do not know.
I just don’t.
And you, if you are kind enough to tell me who I am… Then I should give my heart to you as a reward. This heart of mine should suffice as the prize, like a worthy one.– as though it isn’t shattered; as though it’s still beating. And when that time comes, I hope you’ll accept this cold heart of mine even though broken. Even though dead. I’m sorry, that’s all I have to offer… For an insane, and homeless creature like me, that’s all I’ve got. That’s all I have. And I’m giving you all of me. So Darling, when you take it please bury it deep within the gardens of weeds because maybe then, it’ll grow roots… Roots that looked like veins. And you shall water it. Water it…
Maybe then it’ll grow flower.
And then you can think that it is still alive.