Fate spoke to me tonight.
She told me that I am chasing a redemption I can never deserve, and she was right.
The degree of my self-destruction is...limitless. I am losing touch of reality, and there are no more roots to ground me.
I keep revisiting the past, and not by choice, but by the flashbacks hitting me in the back of my head like the fallings I used to have when I was a kid.
But back then, I still had the capacity to cry. I was a kid anyway. I was so used to crying to the littlest things.
And now, even when a calamity hits me, it's like I have to squeeze the tears out of my eyes. It's almost like they would rather stay inside of my body than to see the cruel daylight, to dry in existence of this cruel rain of never ending misery.
Can a mind who's hung up on the past continue to paddle through the present and into the future?
It is not a rhetorical question anymore. I am genuinely asking.
For me. Not for anyone else. But for me. Is it wrong for me to want things to end on my own terms? For me to end on my own terms?
No amount of distractions was able to keep me from getting worse before, and I realized that no amount of sanctity is ever able to give me an adequate sanctuary now.
I am not doomed, I have lived enough to know that.
But that's the thing, you know.
It feels like I am.
And the only good thing that ever came out of my pain, or should I say, the only thing that ever came out of it was my ability to write...unsanctimonious, infamous and irrelevant entries of thoughts and complaints.
Few minutes of silence without the sound of the waves drowning me...feels like a whole century of eternity.
It feels like I am swimming in Styx.
And at the same time, drowning in Nile.
Can anyone hear me? Can anyone see that I am slowly descending into madness? Into my own insanity?
