Capricious

5 - A Labyrinth of Mind

 "You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present."
- John Green

I have fallen so far. I am now the sloth. Too tired, too weak to wake. Preferring to delve into cathartic rest and lucid dreams than to face any mirror or reminder of my lonely existence. My dreams are so brilliant. They set up new worlds, new characters, new lives. Getting to escape, to experience something more within these lives, things that don't, can't happen in reality. The switch, the lack of worry. Short, fast, beautiful. Even the ones that hurt, that you regret. I want nothing else, but to dream.

Beauty, beauty everywhere, how you flaunt and how I stare.

And now my reveries revolve around distant futures. Not the now or the how. Have I given up or given in? What am I expecting? How far have I deluded myself? Moments taken out of context. Deception and deceit. I think of looking back, of going further, lives lived in all and every way because somehow I consider it possible. Now my day dreams control me, as if they are all that matters and reality appears now and then, passing by. A false contentment, that I know, but one I can't give up. Day dreams feed into reality, because I can't tell what's real, what matters, what I will regret, or who I truly am.

Confidence is simply a product of success. As success is a product of confidence.

It is as if time is moving faster. In no time at all I'm starting the week again. Everything is going by, the occasional event in between, but barely anything worth living. I take small pleasures in meaningless things, but never great pleasures in meaningful things. They are the events that slow time, that last a lifetime, however short in truth. These moments others live without realising, taking them for granted. And I am still the great pretender, playing a part, still lost.

To dream. Short bursts. No commitment. Infinite chances. Bending rules. Pure anything.

Even in a high mood I feel fear. I regret way too much. Acting like I don't care is difficult when it does so much more than it should. Everything is buried under the facade of working me, swelling, compressing, threatening to burst out at inopportune moments when I lose control. Do I dare lose control again? When to lose control is to open up, to frighten in my pathetic ideal that I am this greater being suffering so and no one can understand why. But losing control can also be wondrous depending on the who, the how, the mood. As long as I am not in pain. Because of the associated bliss of losing yourself, of having fun, of being true and have others be true with you. It's a risk I take too often.

And then you hear a song you've heard countless times before. And suddenly it has a whole new meaning. And now you understand it completely. And every single line is frighteningly true. And that song defines you. For a time.

Sometimes there is too much compressed inside of me, struggling to get out, and no way to release it.

Life is a spectrum, it comes in many shades, many colours. And we are but limited to a few.

In a wooden world of countless doors. I'm escaping through them, running from something, but the doors are getting smaller. Levels in an endless game.

Sometimes I will listen to a song again and again, strip it of everything, understand it completely. Because it means something to me, because I'm trying to understand myself, because it helps me cope. Music is how we define ourselves, it is our relief from the world around us. We shut out one sense and we hear another world to the one we wander endlessly. It is an escape. It is beauty. We all hear it, comprehend it, engage it in different ways. We apply it to our lives. And we feel less alone. We share without meaning to. Music frees us.