Things have come to a head and I don't know where to look next. What will come out next will probably be partially an incoherent stream of consciousness spew which and undilated mind needs to get out before it chokes on it's own poison. Because expression is how the world deals with its pain and itself. It's how we handle and explain ourselves and try to make sense of this big, crazy mess that we have all come to know and love. Life as a whole.
Yes, things have come to a head and I don't know where to look next. I have spent months. And months. Wallowing in misery and dragging my feet and my whole self everywhere I went, living as through a dense haze of smog and other choking substances which threatened to block out my entire meaningful existence. Feeling like I had hit rock bottom and yet with no way to get back up, contrary to the popular saying. Months and months and months. I was wallowing in my misery and my self-pity and my regret and my disappointment and all those unpleasant things. And then I came here, and then not 2 months pass and I find myself again wallowing in the misery and the pain and the misery that I thought I had left 6570 miles behind me. And maybe this is hindsight talking but this time it seemed worse than before. More suffocating, more disabling to the heart and the soul. So much that I couldn't find a way to carry on any more. I was assaulted from all directions suddenly with my insecurities and fears and even shit I didn't know I had and didn't know existed or never acknowledged before this all came assailing me with an enthusiasm equal to a Mardi Gras day parade. I buckled under the pressure. I caved. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move, I couldn't comprehend. I was curled up into the foetal position and yet I had to go about my day like nothing was wrong, like nothing was the matter. Because life marches on endlessly whether we participate in it or not. Life goes on uncaring of an individual woes and sorrows. It was a disorienting mess of sound and silence and noise and clamour and confusion and anger and fear and disappointment and shock and so many things in between. I had to sit down and close my ears for the din was driving me crazy and it did drive me crazy. I might have left a few screws along the wayside, I wouldn't know. Not yet anyway.
Many long nights were spent in unnecessary, needless contemplation. Many long hours were spent in uncalled for contemplation and introspection where every wound and every pain was dragged out of the mud again and again and again and again like an endless cacophony of sound and chaos and poisoned smog. Many long, quiet moments were spent in endless, needless thinking. About things. About things that were unwise to spent any time and grey matter on. Unwise. Nobody said one was wise. We are all not wise. For the most part, we humans, we are unwise beings.
Maybe I was happy once. But that was in the past. And the past is over. And it's gone. And where we are now is here today. Where I am now is here today. The past is gone and maybe I was happy once but that was in the past. There will be many things that will break your heart. Smash it to the ground and shatter it to smithereens. Run over it with a bulldozer and Zamboni the whole damn thing into the cold icy ground before you. There will be many things that will break your heart again and again and again and make you doubt the very fabric and purpose of your existence in this wide, cruel world. There will be many things that will make you cry your now non-existent but somehow still hurting like a motherfucker heart out every night into your pillow. That will make you sob the night away and squint into the morning sunlight with your puffed up teary eyes and repeat the whole damn process again the following night. There will be many things that will make you feel like the world's going greyer and greyer every day like every single pinch of sorrow is bleaching the colour right out of your world, making it go from Technicolour to a dull shade of bleh. Even grey is too good a shade for it. There will be many things that dash your heart into the ground and rend it and squish it till it leaves a bloody mess behind which you have no idea how to fix and just stare at.
But we must all just carry on. With our broken hearts, with our dulled out and disillusioned minds and souls, with sorrow weighing heavy on our spirits, we must join in on the endless march. And we shall carry, we must drag our burdens and our baggage behind us and carry on for there is nothing else to it. And maybe one day, we can finally find a way to let go of it and leave it behind.
Maybe I'll be happy again one day. But for now, the only thing to it would be to just carry on.
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