Forward

Lately, I've been finding it harder and harder to find motivation to move forward.

I am constantly in a state of utter despair. I can't muster the energy to start any projects, and all I want to do is sleep. I don't feel like anything I'm doing is leading to anything great, and despite the successes in my life I am no closer to happiness than I was 5 years ago.

I don't know what I can do to fix myself, and I'm scared that I'm leading myself down the path of suicide - I can't go on pretending that I'm fine anymore.

I'm just... so tired.

Dust

I have so many important things I should be doing right now instead of this- but I can't start unless I write what's going through my mind. In a sense I am deleting those thoughts from my head and storing it here instead; there is no philosophy or profound meaning in anything I will be typing, nor will it be lengthy or worthwhile to read... but here goes:

I am falling apart. Right before my very eyes I can see everything crumbling to dust; I promised myself I'd be a better person for my sake and for the sake of others I care about, but I'm finding it impossible to do so, especially as of late. Some times it is entirely my fault, and other times I believe it to be the fault of others, but no matter... I am still falling apart.
I am finding that I have little to nothing in common with those surrounding me, and this is a very daunting thought that some time in my future I will have to erect another facade of myself to project onto others to show them I am like them. But I am nothing like them. .

I am finding it increasingly hard to be myself because I am suppressed at every turn. I'm slowly being veered to act and behave in a way that's just not me- just to make others happy. The saddest part is that I don't have the will to resist anymore... I am becoming someone even I don't recognise... and even then, the world continues to shun me.

I can't be happy being myself.
I can't be happy being someone else.

I am losing every part of me that I consider my true self... and despite every sacrifice, I have still failed. To those who love me, and to those I love... they still see failure in me. I can never make them happy.

Perhaps I am not meant to live a life of happiness

Drowning

I'm suddenly finding it hard to feel happy again. I'm relapsing to my darkness and I can feel it yearning and grasping at me with ferocity, and the voices are returning. I can hear the quietest whispers in the dead of night where silence once sat, and despite the intensity of external sounds, the voices still whisper to me.
"Come back". And in the brief moment I acknowledge those words I can do nothing but cry. My sole companion- that which layeth in my shadow suppressed by my strong feelings of love and subsequent happiness- has returned. I can only rationalise that because of my swayed feelings of late, it has decided this moment may never present itself again, or that it knows I am drifting into sorrow once more. Loneliness. It is both the feeling I am most comfortable with, and the name I have given to the voice in my darkness. When I felt love, it faded away; does that mean it's return signify that I don't feel loved?

I feel as though I am loved, but not how I wished I would be loved. Perhaps my loneliness can feel that... For a while, I've felt so comfortable with the idea that someday I may end up growing old and although my bones would feel frail and my joints would quiver from weakness, despite my weakened heart and falling of my hair... I would still have her. And she would love me as I loved her, and all was well. These feelings radiated so greatly deep within my being that I felt strong enough to let go of my loneliness, and plunge myself deep into the sea of love, trusting that she would be there to catch me and keep me afloat. 

I was shocked to find I fell into a great ocean of unparalleled magnitude. The first thing I noticed was that in the sea... I had no shadow. My loneliness could not follow me here. And she was right there in the ocean next to me, holding my hand to make sure I was safe; she had no shadow herself- she did not experience utter despair as I have- so I felt it was my duty to make sure she never would. The ocean formed waves and we were swept away. In love.

It was only yesterday I had seen the shore for the first time, and there my shadow stood staring into my soul once more. "Come here. Come back to me". It was only then I felt her grip loosen. I couldn't believe the words she said to me that day. I will never forget it as long as I live and despite how long we remain together. It was clear the love I felt for her was different than the love she felt for me, and this sudden realisation lead me to write this post. 

You see... although we both love each other with equal strength, she lacked one quality that would bind us eternally in love. Loneliness. I expected too much from her- someone who has never experienced the extent of sadness and longing for any kind of companionship that I felt... how could I have expected her to reciprocate the same type of love as I?
Living with my shadow for so long had accustomed me to the idea that I would be alone for the rest of my life, and I was convinced this was truly my destiny. I was content. 
So of course when I fell in love, I knew she was the only person I needed. For the rest of my life, she would be the only person I ever needed.

But I will never be the only person she needs. 

I'm not sure how to deal with this realisation. 
I cannot force her into my darkness, to feel as I had felt in all encompassing loneliness. And so I can never make her love me the same way I love her. And despite her loving me in all her capacity, I felt my shadow creeping up on me again. Perhaps it's okay to feel a bit of loneliness in love. At least she loves me. I'm most grateful for that. 

Yesterday she told me that essentially, without others in her life, she fears she may grow sick of me... that my constant company would someday diminish the love she feels for me. These words crushed me, and I haven't stopped crying since. If I love her any more than I do now, she will leave me. I don't know how to cope...

I have never felt so loved, and so broken at the same time.

Hang in there

Life is a seemingly never-ending cycle of trials and tribulations, but you will push through. I can't promise you anything-- I can't say life has a plan for you, or that you're tied to the string of destiny constantly pulling you towards your fate, or that you're meant for anything great, but I can promise you that you are more than you believe you are.

You can be anything you want, and you can do anything you want. Whatever is holding you back is simply an illusion-- something you have built and established in your helplessness and fear of unfamiliarity. I know you're struggling and I know you're scared of what the future may bring. And I know how much you must fear what lies ahead... but everything you are and everything you will have, and everything you will become depends on your actions right here, right now. Today, tomorrow, a week from now... you must be a little braver.

Every day. A little braver. Every day. A little better.
Right now, you may be a little scared. I could be wrong- you could be scared out of your wits. Whatever the reason, find a glimmer of hope and run. Run towards it. You might not be able to run straight away I understand that. So then walk. Crawl. Stretch out your fingers. Make a commitment to yourself, to become better. You are great- you can be greater. You are grande and magnificent. Really. You may not know it, but you have saved so many people.

How many lives have you touched? How many times have you grabbed the hands of someone on the edge of darkness and said 'I will be the light that guides you'. Where would they be without you? Where would the world be without you? You have saved so many people. You have done so many times what you constantly convince yourself you can't-- you have compassed your compassion and summoned bravery from the deepest depths of your being, but you often forget it. It can be hard to remember, but if you try hard enough you will realise-- the memories will envelope you. Of all the times, for the briefest of moments, you became more than what you believed you were ever capable of.

And you always have been. You just need someone to remind you. So here I am telling you now that you, whoever you are, wherever you're from, whatever you've experienced...
You are amazing. You are capable of anything-- you are more than who you believe you are. You are you, and in and of itself that is and will forever be your greatest accolade.


Cognitive dissonance

Love is so synonymous with cognitive dissonance it may as well be made official. It can make you smile or make you frown, give you laughter or fill you with tears; the simultaneous experience of zenith and nadir is both wonderful and tragic.

I'd like to think that I have grown up a lot, and learned a lot about what it really means to love. There is a fine line between love and infatuation, but in order to find that line, you need patience. If you rush into it too quickly, you may lose feelings quickly, and after you realised you were only infatuated with them, you've sabotaged your own prospects for love in the future.

In order to truly love someone, you need to know them completely- you need to see them at their best and at their worst, and everything in between.
To be in love means you crave for the opportunity to see them again.
To be in love means that every hug is more passionate than the last.
To be in love means that you respect them as an individual. You are not truly in love if you dare to corrupt their priorities for your own selfish agendas.
To be in love means often surprising them, and constantly itching to give it away, because you can't wait to see the look in their eyes, or hear them say the words 'I love you'.
To be in love means you love their flaws, and embrace their insecurities.

When you're ready to fall in love, then by all means, fall in love. But never rush it, or things may end badly. Spending an extended length of time getting to know someone is better than rushing to tell them you love them when you don't really mean it, or when you don't really understand what it means to love, be loved, or be in love. Personally, taking my time has been the greatest thing I have done for myself.

Love transcends; it perseveres- and it is the greatest feeling you will ever know. So cherish it.
Don't be so eager to quit at the first sign of trouble. Work through it, and I promise you things will get better. I promise you, because I know it is true.

I love her, and I know I do because everything I do works towards a better future with her. Every morning I wake up with her on her mind, and every night, I long to hold her. In every waking moment, when she is not on my mind, I am thinking about improving myself to be a better man for her.

I want nothing more than a future where I am happy with who I am and what I have achieved, both of which she has been my reason. My catalyst.

I don't want her to feel like she does not have my full attention, or that I have the desire to be with someone else, though these feelings will always be inevitable, as experience has shown me, regardless of how trustworthy they are. Yet I will put ill thoughts at ease by being by her side, always.

Peculiar

Thursday morning. The first rays of light announcing the coming of dawn pierced the dark of night, shooing it away like a mother would an animal that’s frightened her child. I struggled to get up as the alarm rang hazardously loud for the fourth time. I don't recall hitting snooze once. I reached over to grab my phone, and was greeted by the juxtaposed cold of the metallic casing not embracing the warmth of a bed like I had. It was already 10:25 in the morning, and the once subtle greeting of the morning sun had developed into blinding lights and scorching temperatures that would threaten even the mighty desert nomads of the Sahara. After performing my morning ritual of compiling a list of things to do in my head and optimum methods of completing them, I hopped out of bed to begin my day.

Shopping was definitely the most arduous task, not for the hours spent going to various stores to purchase the things I needed, and on rare occasions- wanted, but it was the interaction with others that proved most strenuous. I definitely am not a social butterfly. I’m more along the lines of social train-wreck. I don’t like people, and they don’t like me—but regardless, I would have to interact with them to move things along quicker. And I value efficiency. The thing is, along the footpath required to get to store B from store A, there lie the most interesting of people. On an ordinary day, I would walk past countless beggars and homeless, and the occasional busker. I’d stare into their eyes as I casually ignored their pleas. But today was different. Today, I experienced something I would never forget.

I turned the corner of George Street, past the commotion of carefree shoppers eager to throw away their hard earned money on commodities they didn’t really need- things designed for the lazy man of the modern age. Fucking kindles come to mind. I only had to buy one more Christmas present- for my nephew, and I could finally go home. Concerned for my schedule, I checked my phone. 1:32 PM. I slid it back into my pocket, but when I looked up…

The street was awfully empty; I had never expected to see the city in its slumber before, especially not during peak hour. A few stragglers could be seen meandering about the end of the street, but other than that, the street seemed… desolate, dark, cold… In a panic, I backtracked, fearing that I had lost my way before realising that there was absolutely no way I could have gotten lost. I was on George Street a second ago. Suddenly the sights and sounds of the bustling city of Sydney came alive again, relieving my anxiety and giving me an opportunity to assess what had just happened. I loitered on the street for a moment, leaning against the wall—to my immediate right, the corner. Two steps away.

Inhaling frequently and thoroughly, I consciously took two steps to the right, and braced myself, cocking my head cautiously. Normal. It was completely and utterly normal. The birds tweeted as they glide through the sky, humans doing the same- twittering away, their phone in hand, dangerously taking long strides forward with their face down and masses of shopping bags flailing as they bump into one another. I navigated the footpath with grace, trying to see how far I could walk before bumping into somebody—I’m sure we all do this. I made it 42 steps before embarrassingly bumping shoulders with a beautiful blonde whose blue eyes shone with the tenacity of grand oceans, her cream-coloured hair billowing in the wind so majestically it appeared to be in slow motion. I quickly put away my phone, but not before checking the time. 4:19 PM. 

I was at a loss for words, but hers I remember as clear as day.

“May I have a moment of your time?”

I nodded nervously, feeling as if I had broken into a cold sweat. I wanted this exchange to go well. If I pay attention to her, maybe make a few jokes here and there, she may agree to go on a date with me. Chicks dig funny guys. I was sure of it. “Sure”

In a voice so polite, she hesitantly looked into my eyes, but spoke only two words.
“Thank you”

I was leaving for home by the time I was able to fully recall what had happened just a brief moment ago. It was getting dark, and as I approached a red light, I checked my phone, fearful that I had wasted my entire day shopping. 6:10 PM.

It had only been 2 hours, but I felt much older. And then it hit me.

“May I have a moment of your time?”…
  

What keeps me up at night

I'm not sure how much longer I can go on like this. I can't help but feel cheated; life is an extremely rare privilege, I know... but why me and why now? Why can't I have been born thousands of years into the future? It fucking frustrates me to know this is it.
This. Is. It. 
We have one life, and this is it. Right here, right now. All of this and a few dozen more years is all we will ever experience before becoming nothing more than mere particles to be spread across earth, returning to its rightful place in the universe. I would be so fucking content with life if I were just another person who lived to start a family and be happy with being in love, but no...
I'm too fucking curious.
I stay up most nights and sit outside my room, staring at the stars, well aware they are not what they appear; distant planets, galaxies, nebula's... all exploding and emitting the light we see, millions and some, billions of years ago, only reaching our eyes at that very night, and I can't help but weep silently, having to live with the fact that I will never experience the wonders of the galactic realm. I will never experience the magnificence of setting foot upon another planet, or even live to see the human race colonise a habitable one.
I'll never live to interact with other intelligent life forms from distant planets. Instead... it's just us here on this dull planet with our lack of knowledge and understanding of the intricacies of the universe. I want to know more. I want to see more. I don't want to die yet... not yet. It's not fair...