I am beginning to really believe that I’m losing my mind, going completely insane, or something. Perhaps I have had too much time on my hands…perhaps I’ve thought too long about the questions that have plagued my mind for so many years. While most boys and girls were busy with starting to date, I was busy asking large questions. Like: Who made God? Where did God come from? I find myself asking about Gods motives, if God even has any. The more I continue to live this life of mine, the more I think I come to doubt in his existence.
How ironic. How pathetically blunt it is to myself on what it is I am doing to myself. Here I sit, wanting nothing more then to live life. Yet, here I sit, also tired and fed up with life. Why? Why must everything be on a contradiction in my world? I try to gain tid-bits of wisdom and insight from a serious of books by Neal Donald Welsh, but it just seems like the words I’m reading are angering me more then soothing me, as they once did. I think perhaps it is because I envy the fact that someone else has been able to come to the peace, serenity, and understanding of God - and has faith and belief in it all. Whereas for me, I have lost faith and belief in everything, even myself, and I feel that state of living and thinking slowly killing me - literally.
Even as I write this now, I feel my heart…almost as if still beating only because of my defiance. My defiant will to admit defeat, and go to death in this state of utter…..disappointment and rage. Yet, there is a part of me that calls for an end. That pleads for this life, this illusion, to be over with. Know this, and know it well. When I die, there will be a part of me that will celebrate like no other. That will rejoice with more power then nature could ever produce. For in my dying, I will finally have come to a final end. A final choice. I believe that in my death I will not have the contradictions that are to be found in this life. No more aching knee cap. No more panic attack feelings every minute, if not every fifteen seconds. No more pondering life, and its meaning. No more existing, no more worrying, no more responsibilities….hell, the more I talk about it like this, the more it seems like the most befitting vacation for such a tired soul, mind, and body that I possess.
I cannot begin to express, or explain to you, what it is like to live a life with no dreams, no expectations, no will power to survive, no goals in mind, and no planned future. To wake up each day, and not go to work. To sit at home, trying to find something that excites my rather bored, tired, alone self. Sometimes I think life to be one fucking joke. A hell for the intellectual mind. A hell for people like me who cannot have just a simple, normal life. Which is all I’ve ever wanted to begin with! And don’t feed me that bullshit line crap about how “my life is what I make of it.” Or, “you live in the environment you create.” Cause you know what? I didn’t wake up one day and say, “I think starting now, I will live in fear. Every waking moment I will question my existence, I will fear for my health and my life, and I will sit at home alone, surrounded by no mind that can match me on an intellectual level.” I didn’t ask to have these….panicky feelings I get every fucking 15 seconds to a minute.
God how do I wish I had freedom! And no matter how in-depth I search, no matter where I search, no matter where I turn, I am still left with more questions then answers, and still questioning how much longer it will be before my heart finally has felt its last beat, and simply stops - exhausted from the struggling fight from within me.
How weak I have become….never what I envisioned myself to be. This is so far from the truth of who I wanted to be that I can only claim it as my personal, living hell, and unlike most: I have no escape. For, how does one escape them self? How does one escape the pressing questions that linger in the conscious and subconscious? How does one come to a peace and harmony with the world around them when they seek to know what lies beyond the final act - death.
Oh God, I am cursed!!! I question my existence, the purpose of the this world, and the things that inhabit it. All for what? One day I shall die and be no more. Then what? As I lie there dying, breathing my last breath from how weak I’ve become, will I then wish to experience life? I fear that as well. And so true as to my contradicting nature, there will be that side of me that will lament like no other. That will regret with more pain. That will be filled with such misery, sorrow, and all those other negative emotions and feelings….all because it will know that this unique experience I was given is at an end, and in all logical senses, there may be nothing when the darkness shrouds the sight, fear grips the soul, and the body cries to live on even as it dies against its will.
I am fucked. I hate, not dislike, but HATE what I’ve become. I can’t stand the fact that I can’t just enjoy life for what it is, and must stand outside of it. Always has been that way! ALWAYS! I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged, I’ve never felt comfortable in any one group, not even with the closest of friends….I am alone, with these emotions tearing me apart inside -literally (at least that is how it feels anyways). I just want to live a normal life…..a normal life…….to worry about what color my car should be, not whether there is a god or not. To worry about what shirt I want to wear today, rather then worry about whether I will be alive in 5 minutes. To worry about going to school, and not that life is a big fucking joke, and there is simply no point in any of it. Why live through all the drama? All the pain? All the heartbreak and agony? Why live long enough to watch your loved one wither away in front of you and die, and then placed in a casket??? WHY? WHY? WHYYYY???????
And you know something? This writing doesn’t help me what-so-fucking ever.
- End transmission
