who in the world do I think that I am? I guess it depends on who I believe...

I am alive. That’s what I’m telling myself almost each and every day.  I say almost, as there are some in which I feel I am dead… inside, dead to the world around me, which is just a screen of personal perceptions, so dead to me.

I found myself appreciating small lovely things, like little kittens or a rare flower. Nature has a way of dealing with the ugliness humankind has brought upon it. I am alive, because I smile from time to time to such small beauties… I had a flat mate that used to say he was Borg. I feel old. Do I look as old as I feel?

Although I thought I stopped, I surprised myself acting with mathematical precision within groups hoping, waiting for the others to act so I could act without fault. I am alive because I haven’t yet determined myself to think that I am right… or that others are. I still have my doubts.

Am I young enough, or too old to have found/retained trust in the people I surround myself with? I am alive because I still have chunks of emptiness within me that haven’t yet been filled and would still like to. I should wish for death instead? Some might push me towards the latter. People will forever and always disappoint you. a moment of flawed judgement and…

I found myself yearning human interaction, human touch. Social masks and social theatre, interpreted  through the social other, have me pinpointed on a conceptual chess board. I am alive because I want a specific thing from a certain someone who has “their” own issues and isn’t able to comply. I am alive because I feel pain and because I feel the heaviness of the silent night pressing upon my existence.

I still exist even though nothing needs me to. Most if not all things would just go on without any issues. I am alive because I exist in the perception of others. It’s aching that I am not part of the perception of a certain other. That certain other…

Am I alive? Who the fuck cares about beauty, the people they interact with, real needs, trust and what’s really under the mask? I am alive… or at least I wish I was.

Who in the world do you think that I am? I suppose it depends on who you ask


~ by Death Whisper on August 6, 2014.

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