Where to go

You know that feeling when your mind is shouting but words just won’t come out? That tingling sensation in your spine forcing you to write something but it’s like you forgot how to move your fingers while you’re staring at a blank page? And it’s so frustrating because you know you have lots to say but it’s like words are stuck in a far away place in your brain. Well that is my state pretty much all of the time for the exception of those rare nights when my mind and my brain decide to call it truce and come together allowing me to express my feelings. So here I am tonight, writing about all those things that make me want to punch a whole into a wall because there’s not much I can do about them. The World is an awful place to live in but it is our job to make the best out of it. See after going through so much you realize that life isn’t about what is wrong or right. There is no such thing. It is only about what is and what isn’t, the rest is nothing but an illusion, a fiction we create to give a meaning and justify our actions and decisions. And so for that reason I always preferred living in my own little world, a world I created in which I was allowed to be whoever the I hell I wanted to be without any justification or restriction.

Sometimes I like to think about death. It scares the living daylight out of me but I just got to do it. What happens when you’re dead? And I think it’s either you cease to exist or if you’re religious you go to a place called heaven or hell. But to me both theories are equally terrifying. I mean think of it, it’s either you are wiped of existence, and I mean that literally or you go to a place where you live forever. Ceasing to exist is terrifying. One day you’re loved, you’re the pride of your family, you’re the love of someone’s life, you’re a daughter, you’re the heartbreak of someone, you’re important. And in an instant you’re gone. I mean yeah you’re missed for a while and your loved ones cry every once in a while at the mention of your name but after that what? After that, there’s nothing. You’re nothing but a distant memory that slowly fades away like looking at the fire burning the life of a candle—it’s beautiful but it will inevitably fade away. Now the other option is to live forever, maybe as a trapped soul in hell or a beautiful angel in heaven. But please do tell me what’s attractive in that? The thought of living forever doesn’t attract me at all. If you’re living forever what’s the point to anything? What’s the meaning of anything? And what are you supposed to do day after day? When time isn’t against you, how do you make the best out of it? And why would you even want to? Having all the time in the world might mean having all the chances to be happy but doesn’t it also imply having every damned opportunity to mess up? I think the only way forever could be attractive is if you could live as many different lives as possible. And isn’t that what books are for? Living life through the eyes of someone else? Falling in love as many times as you wish, going on adventures, saying words you never had the courage to. Books are what we cowardly wish we could do on a daily basis but the risk of failure, the fear of death holds us back. It ties us down and makes us follow rules that we deep down are against because that is humanity. It is a conceited and delusional concept of benevolence despite millenniums of history as evidence to the contrary.

Just a lost soul trying to find its way