Nix and Me - The Soulless Soul

- Me.

The Soulless Soul.

The day I crossed the bridge was the day I denied my own heart,  my own brain, my own name. I am no longer a person with identification, for there is nothing to identify. I am nobody, I am nothing, I am no one. I only exist through my flesh.

My soul, my mind, and my feelings no longer exist. They are no longer with me. I have left them behind me, across the bridge. They only cause trouble in the lifetime of someone like me. I understand some people embrace what they feel - and I respect that. I probably would embrace them too, if I knew what I felt and when I felt it.
Not feeling anything to then be washed with feelings can end up in three things. It can be a revival, just like sparking a candle in the middle of a dark room; an homicide, being pushed into the mortal waves of feelings and stabbed to death by the embodiment of doubt; or, an understanding, where suddenly everything makes sense. The feeling of being unblinded or unsilenced.

To me, it was a homicide. I was cut open by the Doubtress and thrown into the deadly waters of emotions by her lord, Lord Feelingus.

I lost my heart in a pool of blood that poured out of me. Nothing made sense, I was lost in the dark. It was as if the small house I had for a heart was burnt to the ground, and all that was left were its ashes. Nothing made sense from the on, and all I did was cause trouble to the ones I once loved, trying to take their hearts to replace mine. Making myself someone who, out of my own grief, ended up putting others into the same situation I was. I dragged them down with me. With all of this, I selectively left everything. I had no pleasurable memories left to stay with me while I tried to stitch my heart together, so, I left. Nobody stopped me, because I decided to not listen. The traumas I went through just pushed me towards making that decision.

The whistling sound that first sparks curiosity then sparks fear was what I heard while crossing the bridge with slow, mourning steps.

    It was a sunny day that day, but the sun wasn’t shining for me. It was shining for those who had the right to happiness. It was for the boys and girls who would be celebrating their birthdays, running around, following the swirling swallows with the smooth breeze underneath the bright golden rays of the sun. The sun was shining for them, not for me. The birds were singing for them, not for me.
I, out of my own accord, deprived myself of saying anything is mine, or that anything is for me because sooner or later they are ripped apart right in front of my eyes, or stolen from my tight embrace. I’m saving myself from the trouble of feeling anything - pain or joy, whatever it is, I refuse from feeling it.

I am truly neutral in my soul and psychology and I do not plan on changing that. I deserve nothing, and I am okay with it. I’ve done things, seen things, thought things, and said things I shouldn’t have. Things that stuck to my heart and started feeding on its walls, making me lose my rhythm. Those things went eating my lonely insides, corrupting any type of joy inside of me. If there is any joy left inside of my heart or my spirit, it’s the joy that I’m finally equal with my creator. The joy of not owning anything to anyone by crossing the bridge, the joy of being stupidly free. The joy of being one and the same to those who I have wronged and those who have wronged me.

The only other feeling than this possible mysterious feeling of joyful relief is fear. I fear the possibility of regretting this decision. I don’t know why I would, nor how, but it’s fear. It’s an irrational fear, and that’s why it doesn’t matter. That’s why it takes no place in the world of my mind. All it does is infect my already sick heart. That is why I don’t bother.

    If it wasn’t the Universe’s plan to make this happen, at least something would make me see the price and cost of my life, but I am blind and deaf emotionally. I see and hear nothing, and I completely oblivious to everything. Nothing matters on Earth. We are born, we suffer and smile to then die, causing someone or something to suffer at least a bit. This cycle is inevitable, there’s nothing you can do to change it. Life is a cycle, not a “feeling”, nor a “moment”. Life is an exhausting, depressing cycle you can only enjoy if you are a complete idiot. I think that’s why people who ask questions end up being depressed. I don’t know one philosopher that isn’t in complete horror of what life is.  Nothing is worth anything in my life, for I spent all it’s worth breaking down my heart with worry while hurting and scarring others with me. I spent my life’s worth on worthless things instead of investing in my life and doubling my worth. I am broke, and I have no way out. I’m in debt, and the only way I can pay the Universe is by living this way. Even the hardest problems have solutions, and sometimes, the answers aren’t what was expected, even if it’s the right solution. That’s my situation, and me crossing that bridge was my solution.

The roads across that bridge were cold and blue, melancholic looking, like a painting. Stray cats in the corners of the alleys, watching the rest of my body pass by. Even they judged me, except one. One white cat who decided to find worth in the worthless came to me, and shared its bit of warmth with my ankle and shin as it rubbed its dirty, yet soft coating against me.
I continued walking, ignoring the animal, as I made a promise. A promise to own nothing other than my body and my clothes. That is all I own, all I will ever own, and a cat, a feline creature, will not be added to my list. Even if I were to only find it shelter, or food, it would become attached to me, and I would begin being it’s owner.

The animal was persistent, and continued walking beside me. What joy did I bring? I gave it no attention, nor did I look down at it while it traveled along the roads with me, why did it stay? What did it see in me?
As much as I tried to not think about my unavoidable companion for the time being, it was impossible. Part of me wanted its friendship and validation, even if it was from a irrational being. I decided to name it, even if I was sure it wasn’t going to stay for long. It would leave me sometime soon, that was most likely.
I named it Nix, the latin word for snow, which reminded me of its coat. Nix had green eyes, which was quite uncommon to me. Her appearance was delicate, and a bit of her reminded me of a dove.
While I stumbled down the slippery winter roads, Nix remained by my side, for no apparent reason. I had no food, I did not offer shelter, warmth, or pats and rubs. I offered nothing, just as I had nothing.

For once, I looked down at the feline, as the same feline looked up at me. Her green eyes begged me for her allowance to stay. ‘You are staying with me now, are you not?’ I thought, as Nix answered with a soft, tired meow. She rubbed her face on my leg, and now it was official. I had a new companion with me. Nix and me, me and Nix, but if anything were to happen to Nix, I would not blame myself. She came to me out of her own desire, so I am not to blame. I continue free of charge to the Universe. This time the Universe came to me, for whatever reason. I do not understand my creator’s ways, and I won’t ever understand my creator’s way. I suppose that’s the true mystery of being on Earth. Why do us humans have the desire to know our origins when we were made incapable to reach the answer? Are
we asking the correct questions? Should we not wonder about our origins?

Either way, I shouldn’t get so lost in my thoughts. I know have some purpose to complete daily, and that is to care for Nix as she will care for me.

For my heart, at least.