Capricious

50 - At World's End

"I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish... You see, it is difficult to get all which I want. And then when I do not succeed I get mad with anger."
- Simone de Beauvoir

This beautiful bliss, a cooling shadow slips into me, and I'm away. The pain relinquishes its weight, shooting stars rocket throughout my head, loosening my tongue and my mind. Like a dizziness of relaxing warmth, a bubbling hot tub descends through me, this high that only dreams can understand. Oh, baby you complete me, the ghost of the world out of sight from here within this room. It's as if my subconscious mind is absorbing the emotions in my memory, of all where I was happy, where I was living the purest I could be.

Each of our years envies that of the past, the present pains felt greater than any pains before, where satisfaction seemed so simple, when really the emotions of the world rarely change, only our memories do.

Yet I compare each moment with every one before it, and I get harder and harder to please.

The world is far too silent, I'm laying asleep for far too long, poisoning my body however I can, to abate the pain that lies in my mind. I have no idea why it hurts so much, little has changed from when I was well, except her, I see taking over the world, even now the illusion has dissipated such desire remains. I think of how much we've been through together, can't believe she would let it all go and never tell me why, can't believe this really is the end. I don't know what's going on, I don't know what I should be doing, I'm lost, I'm clueless, and I can do nothing on my own.

And yet, the fears of my past are lost, I don't feel resented, I feel part of something, I feel myself closing in, in whatever shadow said friendship can take. Still I'm dead.

Warm tears streaming from my eyes, lying in a pool of drunken sleep, music's language running through my ears. I have no future.

Life goes on. Moments and feelings I tire of writing about. Capricious and crazy, that's just me. But I bask in the relief that I am not as naive as I used to be. Still making mistakes, still learning, as I will for all time, but I'm thinking and feeling stronger and smarter than I ever used to, that has to count for something.

I am weird, I am different, that's the most normal thing about me.

I've gotten better in so many respects, and yet I only have to look at what I'm missing to realise I am not whole. Things happen, things don't, change is gradual, and only I can take the largest steps. Demons are replaced with new demons, we all have our own problems, all as intense as each other for the weight they carry upon our souls. How fearful I used to be, how lonely I used to be, how ignorant I used to be. My anxious and wild theories, my attempts to explain. There is nothing special about me, I am the most average character the world has ever seen, and like there are many who could relate. This is the madness of life, a hurricane of instinct and chance. I have loved, I have lost, I have won, I have died. I have been right, I have been wrong, I have been wise, I have been foolish. I have experienced so much beauty, and I have learned so much, the full extent to which I don't even realise. The truth is we know nothing, life happens, and it is epic. For good or for bad, fuck it, that's just the way the cookie crumbles.