Capricious

48 - Mind of Mist, Mind of Blitz

"I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?"
- Ernest Hemingway

My heart feels frozen, tight, heavy. I can't warm it. It hurts to even breathe. And I don't know why. I've left vice behind, I'm taking every chance to live, day dreams dissipating, I have all laid out, but even still, I want to sleep and never again wake up.

I wanted to do everything, now I don't want to do anything. Nothing used to affect me, now everything affects me. Everything used to be easy, now it's all too hard.

I died. I gave up. On everything. For a moment or two. Even through saving grace and forced accomplishments. It's different now though. I put everything into perspective and yet I still feel dead inside. I shouldn't be worrying about anything, I don't deserve compassion. My life with its problems would be the envy of many. I don't know why I feel this way, my body, my mind always hurting some way. My future will be what it is, the result will be what it is, she will be what she will be. Fear of what might come from latter pages preventing me from starting the book. Contemplation solves nothing. Only action can change. I just need to know where to start.

I don't trust my memories, I don't trust my feelings, I don't trust myself.

It is so difficult to leave an uncertain process of thoughts.

In the midst of failure and uncertainty, paranoid mirages bellowing from spaces I leave untouched, thinking the worst for I am at that point invisible to the world.

And then I tire of life once more, dead to all, and everything, in every way. Sleep is my only saviour, and yet it is poison for me too.

My body doesn't belong to me, neither does my mind, I'm dead, I'm nothing, and life pays me back in kind.

It's as if my mind is at war, as if I'm floating between sides, of two great superpowers, vying for dominion of my life. In each I find the other to be a hell, a saving grace illegal to a capitalist life, subject to complete freedom. Their agents are the characters of my life, playing along, playing me, trying to use me to some end. I'm just at such odds, to follow spirit and soul, newly found, a life of love and happiness and art; or to remain on the edge of power and sin, that I grew up with, a life of sex and money and intelligence. My mind keeps alternating between, battle plans and double agents, parents of each, lovers of each, vices of each, though only called such by their enemies. I move between them, causing distrust, because I want the pleasure of both, and so I deal with the punishment of both. I love and hate all sides, I want to break free of this conflict, but I'm not sure I could bear the loss, one is the glaring spotlight of the world, and the other its shadows. The real world, the truth of politics, relationships, the social chain, feeding some great life-form that runs off our chaos. You tell me it's not true, you lie, convince me it is an illusion, reward me with pain whatever I choose, the walls built too high, the foundations too fixed. They will always cover it up, distinguish rebellion, it's too far gone. We're playing their games, resorting to underhand tactics, just as good, just as bad, each considered just, to set the world straight, to become the immortal way. They raise all to follow, most never questioning, but some find a way through. Our lives so secured, so defined by ideology, locking down on every way out or any say out. Yet defensive they play, justifying existence by encouraging rebellion just to stamp it out, and claim its threat of terror. Oppression of schools, where we learn their way and yet are subject still to social bias. Then some messiahs in what they define as crazy, what they try to cure, but more and more the sides are mixing, their progressive members both discriminated and applauded to hold opinion of the masses. Dreams are signals judged to be meaningless, drugs are keys considered locks, art and music tell the deepest truths, money holds no real value, and justice and social order and beauty are merely defined by the winners of the world. Who are the heroes and who are the villains truly? Matter and antimatter, light and dark, order and chaos. What is the truth, the one equation, the one answer, the meaning of life, the purpose of all, the theory of everything?

The mist clears, I can see again, my mind finds a way through, however crazy it may seem. I'm buzzing along running faster and faster, I need to keep it going, I need to get better. Not hold on to the past, or worry for the future, I need to let it all go, and make the most of the present, forget the cause and look for a solution, and free myself from these self-imposed shackles of mind.