new2blue
Student
- Dec 11, 2023
- 115
If this is not an appropriate section for this, please let me know. I felt like getting some stuff off my chest and I normally do this by expressing myself through prose. Apologies for any strange formatting, I am using a phone.
I can not explain to anyone the decay of my mind, as I cannot explain it to myself. If there was any mistake I made, it would be not learning to involve myself more with people. Solitude greeted me the way my mother often did when I was a boy, in tender embrace. I have lived my life watching the world through a window, knowing the doorway to it was always open. A terror devours me, in some way it might always have. There is a pit in my head in which all enjoyment rapidly sinks. I poured my soul in to fiction and dreaming and as a result, lost my mind. In this abyss, few things manage to reach me.
When I am close to her, there is a stillness in my agony. If I am lucky the world will shrink for a brief moment, and its in that fleeting wonderland where I almost believe I might feel some measure of peace. I have learned there are worse things to fear than dying. There is an irony in this revelation, given in my younger years I was gripped by fears of my mortality. Yet, even though each minute it feels as if I am on fire, I can not bear to end it. If I am to die, let it not be alone and in pain. It may be selfish of me to ask, but I wish for my final memory to be a warm goodbye in the stillness of someone I love.
This world has not turned me cruel, I am thankful for that. There is still a hope in me, a desire to taste bliss, a need to help others. I know no other way now than to grit my teeth, and sink them in to life. To give it everything, every single inch of me. I can not die without knowing I tried. I have to try, if only to say, "Mother, I gave the world my heart, I was freightened and did it anyway." And whether it eats it, abuses it, stomps on it or loves it, it would have been worth it. It was never the world that I hated, it was only the pain.
I can not explain to anyone the decay of my mind, as I cannot explain it to myself. If there was any mistake I made, it would be not learning to involve myself more with people. Solitude greeted me the way my mother often did when I was a boy, in tender embrace. I have lived my life watching the world through a window, knowing the doorway to it was always open. A terror devours me, in some way it might always have. There is a pit in my head in which all enjoyment rapidly sinks. I poured my soul in to fiction and dreaming and as a result, lost my mind. In this abyss, few things manage to reach me.
When I am close to her, there is a stillness in my agony. If I am lucky the world will shrink for a brief moment, and its in that fleeting wonderland where I almost believe I might feel some measure of peace. I have learned there are worse things to fear than dying. There is an irony in this revelation, given in my younger years I was gripped by fears of my mortality. Yet, even though each minute it feels as if I am on fire, I can not bear to end it. If I am to die, let it not be alone and in pain. It may be selfish of me to ask, but I wish for my final memory to be a warm goodbye in the stillness of someone I love.
This world has not turned me cruel, I am thankful for that. There is still a hope in me, a desire to taste bliss, a need to help others. I know no other way now than to grit my teeth, and sink them in to life. To give it everything, every single inch of me. I can not die without knowing I tried. I have to try, if only to say, "Mother, I gave the world my heart, I was freightened and did it anyway." And whether it eats it, abuses it, stomps on it or loves it, it would have been worth it. It was never the world that I hated, it was only the pain.
