I’m trying my best. Things are not how I wish for them to be. I feel as though I am walking through snow. Not the deep kind that you become ankle deep in nor the kind that is merely frost but the kind that most certainly crunches with each step. The kind that sticks around the toes of your boots and seeps into your bones. I can almost hear my footsteps as they fall on the snow. Crunch, crunch, crunch. The only sounds to be heard is the consistent crunch of my boots and the whisper of my own breath as it comes out in clouds of hot air. Can you hear it? Can you hear your breath? If you listen closely enough you can almost hear your own heart deep in your chest.
What about feeling? The cold resting upon your skin. The gentle melting of the snowflakes as they fall onto your body and then suddenly disappear as if it were a sin to come upon your presence. I think that people are kind of like that you know? At first they’re there, new and unique but eventually they disappear and become just the same as everyone else. Sad isn’t it? To realize that one day everyone you know will be gone. Or perhaps it isn’t sad. I guess it depends on what you think the world should give you. Everyone believes this. We all have those thoughts about what we think we deserve from the world. Many of us never get these things. So tell me, what is the point in thinking about what you deserve when you will never receive it? Do we do this simply to pass the time in this thing we call existence? Or does something else drive the need for more? When did we begin to want more? To want something?
Can you hear it? It’s thousands of slaves begging for their lives.
Can you hear it? It’s a child’s laughter for the first time. Can you hear it? It’s me calling for you. I’m calling out to you yet you do not hear and you do not answer. So many questions and never enough answers, and yet we are told there is a purpose to all of this? Is there a purpose to my madness?
No one will ever know.
Nothing is simple. And yet that in and of itself is actually simple.
Things aren’t like they used to be. I’m not the same. I don’t want people to be able to change who I am but I’ve come to realize that I change every single day. I fall in love with someone new. I am new every day. This cannot be changed. There are so many things that are different. I have changed in ways that I do not know how to explain.
It’s crazy how when I’m sitting here with my fingers frozen around my pencil and I’m lost in thought I feel the most. Things become muddled while others become crystal clear. It’s a sense of clarity and confusion. Sometimes I look back at the things that I’ve written and they don’t make sense but when my life is confusing and I look at them they make perfect sense. Confusion is both an obstacle and a doorway.
When I was little I remember feeling tired because I hadn’t taken a nap. I thought wow I’m really tired this is the most tired I’ve ever been and now again I believe that this is the most tired I’ve ever been but this time I know just how tired I really am. The mix of sleep deprivation and the withering of my soul creates a elixir of sleep that is never quite satisfied. I’m tired of this world and yet so awake for all of the midnight wonders it has to offer.
I think that all things create their own air of mystery in the night. A ferris wheel looks much more appealing at night. The lights, a slow breeze, and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get a kiss. A park looks open to any possibilities in the moonlight. A slow stroll, slow breaths, and the soft padding of your converse on the grass.
We’re tired and looking for a purpose. That’s what we want in our beds, in our classes, and at the dinner table. A reason for our existence.
If you told us to hold our breaths and jump I bet that a lot of us would. Not for any particular reason but simply to do something new because so many of us are stuck in our melancholy lives. We’re tired of life and longing so much for something worth living for. I haven’t found what I’m living for just yet. Maybe it’ll come in time. Maybe the reason why we hang on for so long is because of the unknown. There are all of these things that we just don’t know and we don’t know if things will get better or get worse. I think not knowing keeps some people away from the edge. Sometimes I dance near that edge, and other times I’m far away from it. On a depressed day I dance fast and hard near the edge and I have no fear of falling off of it. Do you go to the edge too?
When you look down do you see what you fear the most or what you’ve always wanted?
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