I’m a bit stuck. I’m a bit messed up. I’m a bit unsure of what the point is. I’m a bit confused about what I’m meant to do. I’m a bit lost. I’m a bit frustrated. I’m a bit invisible. I’m a bit fed up.
I am hollowing out. I am nothing of substance anymore because everything is about getting through the day. And then the next one. And then the next. I can’t write anymore, I don’t have anything I’m passionate about, I don’t have strong opinions, I don’t feel anything real apart from this all consuming storm. I have no goals or dreams.
I found this bird by the side of the road. Dead. Decomposing. Forgotten. The traffic continued on its way past while the ants came and ate their fill, and as the grass grew around it. The rain fell last night and the bird’s broken little body was there, but it was gone. And where do birds go after they die? Is there a fruit-filled tree in the sky? It will be nothing soon. Just dirt and bones. One day soon I’ll be the same. Soon as in, in the grand scheme of things. I’m counting down the days, and I often find myself trying to find ways to speed up the process. But all that thinking about an end takes me away from the now. And life is passing me by and I have nothing because I’m so consumed by wishing it was gone already. Sometimes the thinking about an end distracts me from the now, which to be honest, is kinda shit. Kinda shit? It is shit. Catch 22 and all that.
But I have to do it less. I have to live in the moment more and be all mindful and shit. Easier said than done. How about this, how about you put me in an induced coma, rearrange some wires in my noggin and wake me up when it’s done? I’m over it.