Somehow the dream had become twisted... Instead of comforting images and peaceful feelings, it had degenerated into something strange and altogether unpleasant. What was right, which way was up...?
And all I could think of was that I did not want to care anymore... I wanted to give up, give everyone my best snotty "I don't care" look, and walk away forever. At times like these, I wanted to see what was burn and char into ashes and then nothing. Some voice told me not to disturb the status quo, to let things remain and fester. Would they fester...? Would things get steadily worse...? Would things get better...? Was I lying to myself?
I almost wanted to say that it was a mistake from the beginning... That I was wrong the moment I set foot in a place where I did not belong. It was too late to walk away, I had become bound by so many things. I had become bound by my obligations, my responsibilities, my mistakes... I had to stay, I remained solely to deal with what I had done wrong.
This did not seem to make any sense in any way... It was all a bad dream, I said over and over again. I wanted to wake up, to see the sunlight streaming through the window and the familiar face of someone who loved me. Where was the compassion and the kindness that I had believed in for so long.
I wanted to scream over and over, "I hate you, just go away!" But I did not have the voice, I did not have the will. I only had the impulsive anger of an out of control child. I had the raging emotions of one who could not stand still on a shaking foundation. Then I heard the words I wanted to scream, echoed from somewhere. A dog howled, the moon was bright, and the night was moist. It was a little hot, it being summer, but it was winter in my heart.
I was hopeless for a moment. Who knew how long that moment lasted, but I sat there, like an empty shell... What kind of game was I playing with myself. Why, what was the reason for this torture...? I still did not know, even though it seemed perfectly obvious that it was mainly a case of karma. I was in love with my pain.
How could I go? What could I do to be happy again, to be me again. In this world I was nothing more than a nagging voice... Soulless, purposeless, loveless. Faithless and honorless would be next to add themselves to the list. It was dangerous, I thought, to go on in this fashion... I was not thinking of the words I was saying, but was merely saying them because they flowed out like a torrent. Nobody stop me. Do not try to stop me.
I had to get it all out, this feeling that I had stopped for too long. I could not believe it. I was so angry it could not be fathomed. And maybe I exaggerated at times, for whatever reason. I needed to get away, what was there for me here. Nothing. So I said.
I was asked to test it, to shake things up a little, and to see that it was shaking, but had yet to tumble, told me that it was at least a little bit strong. Though I could not decide if it was never great to begin with; I was too emotional. There were fireworks outside the window, going off at regular intervals. I wanted to speak with someone, but there was no one. I was alone...? No, I was alone in the room, no I was not alone anywhere, but felt like an isle in the midst of a great body of water. One that knew no limits nor had any fear, or feeling. Just a big senseless ocean, battering at my shores. I could only watch, helpless.
I wished for something to drink. I wished for an easy way out. I knew I would take neither if offered. I was too stubborn, I wanted too much, I had too much hope to go out that way. Yet I wanted to complain and whine and strike anyone who came near me. The scaffold shuddered and swayed under the weight of the madman pacing at the highest tier. Who had put him in charge, anyway? I needed to find whoever was in charge of this mess and have a stern talk with them.
And then I found myself wandering... I was in the colorless, landscapeless plane again. There was no movement, only me walking endlessly in a direction seeing an endless scenario of the same thing. This too was a horrid dream. It was the dream of a status quo become prison. I needed to get out. I didn't know what to change first, if it should be my immediate surroundings or if it were something more drastic that had to be different. I thought of keeping a vow of silence, so as not to disappoint myself anymore.
He had done what he could to sate me. He had made an attempt... I guess it mattered little that the gesture seemed to be totally on a material level. I didn't know how much feeling was actually behind it all, if it was something he did just because he felt that he should. Maybe that was what this whole thing was about, someone feeling as though they should be doing something. Maybe that person was me. That was a frightening thought.
Because if it was actually me who felt obligated to perform or behave in a certain manner, then that meant... I was too afraid to finish the sentence, but I knew what it portended. It portended major changes to come. Ones that I was not prepared to face, and had not been for many years. It was time to stop procrastinating. Maybe that is what I was doing, maybe that is why I was unwelcome for those years that I felt like a walking burden. It was simple, perhaps I had been... Are these hasty conclusions...? I don't know. They are words and thought formed without prethought. So perhaps they are the truest indication of how I feel. At the moment anyway. And even still, I hesitate to commit to my own thoughts. I do not want to set anything in stone, because I am too afraid to be wrong. It must be that I fear that I have something to lose. Maybe it is time for me to just go away.
Yes, hasty thoughts indeed. Hasty, irrational feelings. I just feel that I do not belong. I feel that there is nothing I can do here to redeem myself to that which I was before, when I could live with myself. And still I return to the past, hoping to find something there that will pull me from the depths of what could be called my despair. This too, is drama. When will this end, this onion that I am peeling, or perhaps adding to every time I feel this uncontrollable urge to tear the world down...
Sense impressions came from outside. It was merely a matter of osmosis; I was processing my experience through what I had just digested. The problem now was that I didn't know if these thoughts and feelings were accurate portrayals of what was inside or if they were recycled versions of what I had just taken in. It's scary, the feeling of not being able to distinguish insincerity with ones own authenticity...
I had to talk to someone, or so I thought... Why was I alone? What kind of stigmata did I bear that alienated the people around me, or was it a self imposed exile...? Even that, I could not tell. I wanted to draw the concrete lines and make the obvious comparisons, but something stopped me.
No more thought about things that could be but may not be... It's a waste of energy to be suspicious, to jump to hasty conclusions... And still I sit here and rant to myself, rather than speak aloud or write to another human. I don't know what it is that keeps me from freely expressing how I feel. Maybe I do not feel safe enough, I don't know. I do know that I'm only making things worse by being this way.
The way to make things better seems so simple, but I trip up on my way there. It takes little more than staying happy and content with myself for an extended amount of time. Its not the easiest thing to do.
...But lately, I've found that I don't know what I want anymore. I've found that what I used to burn for has become sort of a habit. Its an empty want. What is this...? It's time to change, but I hear this repeating loop... I can't bring myself to end it.
~ Work submitted by Leif