Today, no these few weeks, I find myself unravelling at the seams again.
Everything is coming apart.
No matter how hard I try to hold it, it seems as if what I am holding is just sand, miniscule particles of sand that slips through one’s fingers no matter how tightly closed I hold them. Slipping through senselessly, like an insidious snake slithering. It makes me almost want to recoil from it. Who knows the danger I am putting myself in by holding a snake in the hand? Is it poisonous? I’m not an authority on snakes.
More… Slipping into darkness…that’s what it feels like. Into obscurity, where no one will remember you for who you are, for who you were or for who you are going to be. The past, the present and the future, all erased just like that. Just by things coming apart.
Slipping into mediocrity, mediocre because one does not hold to the common yardstick. People uses the metric system. I use none. And therefore I am a failure. Just because I don’t adhere to your system of logic that makes me a failure? Just because I don’t excel in your system doesn’t mean I do not excel in my universe.
Slipping into darkness…and I rant senselessly, without knowing who I am or where am I. Am I still narrating down this passage or I’m now talking to someone who is listening, who actually listens to me. And who understands. There is a sense of hopelessness as the feeling of falling overtakes me, that the light I once thought was there had disappeared. Is the light ever there at all? Or am I imagining things again? Trying to be a good person to myself and to imagine a light there so that I could hope my way out of it. It is impossible to figure it out. The light is nice and comfy but as I get closer, I can feel the heat coming from it. Now that is weird. Aren’t I imagining the light? Am I now imagining the heat as well? It’s amazing how creative the mind can be sometimes…Next I’ll be imagining I am dead.
It’s weird how lovely the feeling of darkness is. It smells cold yes but there is this odd familiarity to it, this deja vu. It’s like presque vu…There’s no mot juste for it…
And there I go, sinking deeper and deeper. And M tells me that it is only within me to pull myself out. How helpful is that?