There are times I feel void of meaning or understanding. Frequently occurring more oft than I can handle or admit. Like the desire or will to live has been sucked out of me, tormenting my mind with beige pondering of nothingness. Minutes become hours, hours become days. Time goes on and I feel the effects of an aging body, yet I have no further wisdom, as if my mind has decayed more than ageless years can afflict. What will come of me? What is the point of meaning something? Working to exist so that I may exist to work has spun a perpetual cyclone of hopelessness. Why bother to breathe, to eat, to try to feel; when you are only occupying space that would be better suited for one who has purpose?
I wish I had a vision for life. Some noble purpose, even as minuscule as helping a passerby in need. Some sort of feeling that doesn't forsake you when fear rushes in. I wonder if there is meaning to anything. I wonder if I have any place in this world. I hear the laughter and joy of others, begging to know the secrets of their happiness. As if to reach out for a lifeboat with all the strength I can muster, only to vanish before my eyes like a vapor in the wind. All is vanity. What hope is there to try to continue on? My friends encourage me to do what feels good; to give up. Do I continue to listen? They speak when there is nothing else. Silence echoes their words. Am I dreaming? What is really real?
I wonder if I should ever wake from this dream. To experience the joy of life seen in others around me. Work, home, effort, exhaustion, decay; my world spins. The faint glimpse of light under a sea of misery is ever waning. I reach out grasping for the light with my last breath, hoping I will wake and everything will be normal.
I lay down to sleep. Hoping to rest my mind and ease my fears. Only to wake up again, knowing life has not given up on me yet. I must continue on. Lost without a compass and devoid of direction, I sit up. Shortness of breath overtakes my mind. Consciousness flickering in the daylight. When will I sleep? When will this nightmare end? I look around this empty room. Not a soul to be found. I hear my friends in the distance. Echoes of a time I once knew. I wish I had chosen nicer friends. Their advice keeps my mind in chaos. What I once knew was real leaves me baffled.
This moment feels reminiscent of another time. As if my life were repeating itself endlessly
I wish I had a vision for life. Some noble purpose, even as minuscule as helping a passerby in need. Some sort of feeling that doesn't forsake you when fear rushes in. I wonder if there is meaning to anything. I wonder if I have any place in this world. I hear the laughter and joy of others, begging to know the secrets of their happiness. As if to reach out for a lifeboat with all the strength I can muster, only to vanish before my eyes like a vapor in the wind. All is vanity. What hope is there to try to continue on? My friends encourage me to do what feels good; to give up. Do I continue to listen? They speak when there is nothing else. Silence echoes their words. Am I dreaming? What is really real?
I wonder if I should ever wake from this dream. To experience the joy of life seen in others around me. Work, home, effort, exhaustion, decay; my world spins. The faint glimpse of light under a sea of misery is ever waning. I reach out grasping for the light with my last breath, hoping I will wake and everything will be normal.
This moment feels reminiscent of another time. As if my life were repeating itself endlessly
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