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a cracked record repeats and a cracked record repeats and a cracked record repeats and a cracked record repeats
Death is but the end of life, and life is but a beginning to death. Neither are more or less important, but rather is just a concept that was created to explain the in between, something which we call existence. We as humans do everything we possibly can do to fill this existence, a void that will always be nothing for but a select few of these actors in our play.
Truth be told, if you werent born into a good life, chances are, dear reader, that you wont have one. I, myself, wont have a truly good life; even if I try to paint my own world with my own colors, my brain starting and skipping through my thoughts as I desperately attempt to grasp at something grand. I close myself into my own shell of thought and life, my veins of life slowly shriveling into a smaller corner, my migraine becoming stronger as I attempt to explain the emotions I am currently feeling, a burning fire of confusion and nothingness.
Life is hard, dear reader. Life is damn hard. Sometimes I wonder if theres a point to my own life, the secret of my own point is that I don't know. Sometimes, dear reader, I wonder if my brain is broken: That if you open my head all you would see is a machine thats been overworked, mechanisms jittering, loose screws, springs that cut loose. The colors mix, words become noise and sounds become a melody as the world melds into a strange perception from my brain skipping, repeating, crackling, shifting in tone, warping. Its, its hard, dear reader, its just hard.
It wasnt always this way, dear reader. At a time I was a normal, functioning person, just as yourself. I, cared about things. I was hopeful. I, I dont feel hope anymore, dear reader. I dont feel like my life can get better, just the thought of the future makes me want to rip my hair out. Im a wilted rose, a broken record, a washed out film, a scratched disc. Theres no way to fix my soul at this point: to feel hope. Ive tried, and tried, and tried. I dont know the answer to this problem, dear reader. I want to hope.
So, dear reader, I ask, I plead: what is the point? what is the reason to continue on a trajectory when the path doesnt exist?
I promise, dear reader, another day ill do the thinking.
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Rose
I think if one were to assign a single “point” to living, not only would most of us fall short, but it also forces us to condense all of our likes, dislikes, emotions, etc all into something that funnels into that “point”. So why should there be one? We are also so different from each other because there isn’t a singular “point” or destination, that’s why we can focus on what’s happening NOW. If there was a “point”, and we got to that “point”, what about afterwards? Would that be fulfilling? Or would it make you ask the same question of “what is the point” all over again? I don’t want you or anyone else to justify yourself living by trying to find a “point” or anything like that because you are not here to fulfill a single purpose and be done, you’re living because you’re here, and the fact that you’re having these thoughts is even more proof that you’re very much a living human being, and that’s enough. It’s very tough but you’re still here, not only are many people grateful for that (including me) but I’m sure it’ll also make the happy moments you have even better to reminisce on because you can look back and say “I’m really glad I didn’t give into despair back then”.
Thanks for reminding me, Rose. In this endless search for a point, its really easy to get lost and start believing that a point is something you inherently need, and is just something to drive yourself towards something. Life is but a series of presents, not pasts or futures like it is so easy to get distracted by. But at the same time, its tough, since the idea of having a purpose is just so appealing. Maybe its lack of self esteem, maybe its too much self worth even. Its hard for me to even tell whats going on in my own brain, lol. I just want to have the feeling that im here for a reason, and for someone like me to simply live isnt reason enough. Maybe, one day, Ill find my own path. Not necessarily a point, more of a meaning. But, sometimes it might be okay to sometimes relax. To take a moment to breath, and remember that theres no real meaning to any of this. While depressing, it can also be freeing to think that. When theres no real meaning, then you can feel like you can do anything yknow? But I digress. I really am happy youre here too, Rose. I hope you can make it through your own questions.
-Rachel Rose
by RosethornRae; ; Report