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STORMS, BABY.
20:45
AUGUST 21, 2015
“Listen, the road to happiness is a long fucking road trip. You can’t take the freeway. Back roads and bad weather, STORMS, baby. Don’t expect to get there fast. And don’t expect yourself or your car to arrive in mint condition…”
I often find myself wishing myself dead or sometimes to the extreme… planning the greatest suicide act of all… and then I had this realisation and asked myself do I really want to be dead? I am 23 yrs. old. I don’t know where the fuck my life is taking me, I feel worthless (in the things that I do, and sometimes, in the eyes of those I care the most), but… do I really want to be a corpse? to be dead?
I am either singing the praises of an emotionless state or bitching about my inability to let go of my emotions…
I’ve been falling… falling… it’s on 23 years now, and perhaps after falling into either one of these camps, I finally realised that I do not have to fit into either. Do I really want to be an empty shell with no content? It is one thing to achieve a state in which I am not manipulated and overwhelmed by my emotions is different from wishing an emotionless state.
When is it that I do not feel anger, pain, fear, jealousy, and a sadness deeper than the ocean? When is it that I do not feel joy, peace, happiness, love? When I am dead! When my soul no longer occupies a body— a mobile apparatus, in which, I could no longer express my human existence. Do I really want to achieve what a dead man has achieved while I am still alive? It seems to be a sad truth, but I have set myself up for failure before I even started.
Reminder to thyself, it is okay to see the glass empty, but always know it is truly half full. My emotions are what defines my aliveness, but they do not define who I am. To shut my emotions down is to wish myself dead, a breath corpse with no purpose, and I realise that the simple fact that I exist gives me purpose.
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