The following post contains a true real-life story which cannot be told in a single blog entry. My apologies, but my thoughts just will not allow for that. This event will be told over multiple entries submitted across multiple, spread apart, days. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. In my life, I've met many people.
Before I continue with the story, let me set out a foundation. Let's give this some kind of structure. Or attempt to.
...I read once that it is impossible to ever understand your own mind, and thus impossible to attempt to explain it. It is only possible, however, to understand someone else's mind, and thus only possible to explain someone else's.
Why my life is an unjust series of failures caused by forces out of my control destroying any lasting pieces of hope or self-confidence I may have gained through lies and disgust.
I'll attempt to explain myself.
I'm not very certain of much anymore.
I use to be, though, very certain of much. I use to think I had everything figured out. No, not like all adolescents who immaturely believe they grasp the concepts of the world and don't need the education a college, or even a high school, gives them. No, not like that at all....
...Indifference. I feel indifferent to anything they do, anything they say. People rarely upset me, people rarely change me, affect me, do anything to me. Things people do just don't matter to me - I don't know why. I care so little about it all, I guess. I have no care for them for a reason. Maybe it's because I feel as if I can't relate to them. I've never felt like I can relate to anyone. I see kids around me forming bonds; friendship bonds, relationship bonds, just anything that can link them together they can find. They find these things in each other that they like. Common interests, for example. Well, I've been able to find that. ... They just seem so simple, so clueless. So innocent, so young. So immature, so weak.
If I get around these people for too long I feel like I start to lose my mind. I know I start to lose my mind. I don't want to do anything about it other than get away, just separate myself from them. I don't want anything to do with these people that surround me. To me, they are all so intolerable. Isolation is the only thing that keeps my sane. These people make me feel so alone, so very alone... It's the most crushing feeling, you know. To be alone.
Feeling Alone by Dean Thorpe.
Why do I
still feel
so alone.
In a world, with so many people.
Why am I
sitting here
all alone.
Walking past, go so many people.
How I wish
that I was
safe at home.
Looking out, at all these people.
Do they all
feel just
as alone?
Seeing the whole world, all the people here. All the people to fall in love with. All the things to fall in love with. All the things to enjoy. ... I've lied to myself, even, and done things that I didn't even enjoy, just so I'll have something. Something of my own. Something that I appear to enjoy. But, usually as soon as I find myself happy, or at least content, I get the overwhelming feeling of loneliness again. Usually it just strikes me down out of no where. I think what it is is that I forget what I see around me. I try and hide it, or ignore it. I ignore my true feelings and just let that ignorance build. While I hide the truth, I get to live a normal life for awhile. Eventually, though, my poor decisions catch up with me. And it'll hit me. It hits me in the knees, knocking me to the ground, keeping me from leaving, from moving. It'll hit me in the head, swelling my mind, crushing my thoughts, impairing my judgment. I'll make poor decisions and I'll fall into despair, depression, sadness. Then, as abruptly as it came, it will leave. I'll be normal - well, normal in the sense of status - again. Maybe it's like karma. I pretend to be someone else - claim ignorance and look away from the world as it truly is - and I get to live life for a little while. But one-sided benefits never work out. I create a debt that needs to be payed. And that's when karma comes in.
I know there has to be something out there for me. Well, I hope. I really do think there is, though, and I just haven't found it yet. Something or someone out there to help me keep my sanity. To bring back my sanity, even. Pull me into reality and live the life I see everyone else so cheerfully living out. It doesn't even need to be cheerful. See, that's the thing. I'm not a needy person. I don't want to be rich, famous, happy, anything. I just want to feel alive. To feel real. I want to understand this, all of it. I feel like I've been slowly losing my mind, losing reason and purpose to just about everything. I can feel it drip away at night like a leaking water faucet not turned quite tight enough. Just inching out, bit by bit, tiny little droplets separated by short intervals of time. So abrupt does it sound in the night, causing you to wait. Wait for the next drip, longing for the next drip. The next drop of water to fall from the faucet and land gently onto the bottom of the sink. Yet so loudly does it land, does it splash, onto the base. Keeping you awake, alive, waiting for the next bit to drop. This is how it feels; this is my life. My mind slowly loses itself in the time between the dripping, one at a time, ever so slowly, creating panic and chaos, yet putting me to sleep. Keeping me asleep. This is the night, what it does to me.
...I was huddled up with a group of kids on my friends front deck at his house. We were looking out over the deck and then I noticed that the moon was full. I took a look at it and stared. I didn't look away. The other kids did, though. ... I looked at the moon and saw it ways I know they didn't. I saw it as it was, in the sky, ever so far away. I saw it as a two dimensional image, a flat object. I saw it was a sphere, floating around Earth. I saw it as a form of energy, something powerful. I saw the craters on the surface and noted their depth, their size, their immenseness. It's hard to describe how I felt; I didn't think these things, I knew them. I felt them - I perceived them. These other kids saw the moon and said oh, that's the moon. I saw the moon and said nothing.
... You either understand it or you don't. Don't pretend to, please, because you won't fool me. I can't fool myself.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
It was the best of times, continued
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