Fixation

Too long has it been since the need to write has been chanced upon. Not once a blue moon, for a lifetime does not span across eternity. The need arises when the heart seeks the avenue to speak to the blind, for the blind do not see yet they still hear. Walls have ears but this medium seeks no walls, it finds solace at the end of the day. That's how time speaks for itself.

To be frank, a period of drought empties the land of its inhabitants yet the lack of content ironically makes this virtual domain quite preferably quaint. Like a little retreat that sits at the ends of the earth, minute, unnoticeable, inconspicuous. Only those who chance upon this will know, but it doesn't matter, for it may concern no one. Till I find a way to lock up this place up and I mean it.

It unimaginable how the search for peace by itself leads to unrivaled internal confusion, so messed up a puzzle, that when put together reveals another enigma. As the world whirls past, there is barely enough time to see my clearer reflection. Perhaps I was not as well liked in the past, but I knew my identity. I knew who I was, because my actions where true to my heart. Now I am everyone, everyone but myself. The untamed heart feels like it was never meant to be kept in restraints, yet the effect is undoubtedly crippling. So crippling, it hurts beyond redemption.

Speaking of missing identity, weird as it seems, this came to mind abruptly when chatting one early evening. Mischievously, it felt extremely tempting to ask if one would still be my friend if I had nothing more to teach. Just one day when I knew nothing more than anyone else. Yet it was frightening, because in a few spins around the sun, I felt it could be true. So real the feeling for pseudo me.

The ole saying that time heals all wounds, if not flawed, is a fallacy. Well then again, all sweeping statements are obviously lies (haha..circular reasoning). The pain I feel over a lost family member last year is still as raw like it happened all over yesterday. The thought of getting over it is not a hurdle that can be crossed by spamming my mind with work. The burden gets heavier each day, yet it is a possibility of me not being myself. To release myself from this bondage will only let the ones I love down, but these obligations have no end. At least while mowing the lawn, it did dawn upon me the advantages of going to the grave. That is, everything ends.

The stakes are high, on one hand balances a safe house for the ones I love and on the other myself. But then again, who am I in this big picture, but a small speck only to be smoldered by expectations.

And blog, do you know whats the worst part? I have no one to tell this explicitly to. If you have read thus far, no congrats. For I am lost in many ways. Just like an entry that leads no where, it shouldn't have to end anywhere. Without a destination there cannot be an ending.