Is this an illusion? Is it real? I’m not sure I know the difference anymore.
Moments come and go. Some are good and some are debilitating to the point where I conjure up images of the world without me in it.
The darkness enveloped me until a thick blanket of doom smothered the life out of me.
If I could be anyone other than who I am would maybe lift the darkness I live in day to day.
I’m satisfied with my life, such as it is. I desperately want to smell the roses and feel the sunshine on my cheeks as I lift my eyes to the heavens.
I’m not sure if I have a soul. Can I have a soul if I exist when I don’t want to.
Don’t misunderstand. I am not one to entertain suicidal thoughts. I’m just tired. There is a spring winding down in the middle of my back. Nobody but people who are tired and fading can see and feel the turn key winding down. We are like automatons who have stopped moving and collect the dust of eons of time passing by while others go on with their lives.
People like me; we talk in circles because we want to die. We want to cease to exist so it will be like we were never born. We go back and forth between existing and living.
Think about this logically, rather than sentimentally. Did you miss your life before you existed in the flesh? Will you have memories? Will you miss your sense of self after you are gone? I think not.
When I look in the mirror, it is fractured. I see only a shell of the person I used to be. In fact, I think I am already a nobody who is broken into a cacophony of colors and sounds.
I smile as I feel understanding enter my mind in the twinkling of an eye. It’s good to know who and what I am, rather than what the mirror reveals to me.
Life is like a gentle breeze or a strong wind. There is power in life. When the power runs down, my body, mind and spirit gets tired. I am tired. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Depression. It’s a sickness.
Now, tonight, I feel I must step away from myself and look to the one who is unseen who holds the plans for all things.
This unseen person, spirit or Spector is given the credit for creating the person I am. I am supposed to be created in His image. Complicated feelings surround me. Consume me. I must continue. I must find the part of me that is missing. That is broken. That is shattered.
Nothing is permanent except the state of not existing. Life is fluid; it’s like the ebbs and flows of my life are not random but are pulled and released by the face of the moon, planets and stars..
Now, my eyes open and I see the colors of the sunlight forming a rainbow. I take my life by storm and make the best of it.
When the end comes it will be a new beginning; however, for now this existence is all I have. It is time for the silence to go and the symphony of my life to begin.
Previously published on Bubblews.