My heart is slowly crumbling into a pit of black smoke; a demon's chamber. Fog, blanketing over my hopes and dreams. This depressing cloud pivoting over my North Star during these everlasting lonely nights. It seems all I can do is stare, pray that one day it’ll grab the wind and blow away. Here I am, like Rapunzel trapped in shadow, I dwell here all alone. Trapped, caged, corned in fear. Waiting. I look out at my life through a mirror, visible to all these scars sliced into my body at the blade of seemingly wrong fate.
“I just want to belong God, I wanna be free to run alongside happiness and mingle with destiny. Take these chains away so I can set sail towards my dreams. Let me go, set me free. It’s time for me to soar with my on-going faith. God, I beg of you. Please just let it work this time.” Each night I would pray, surrendering to his grace and kneeling down to portray my love. I need his hand, his strength, his purity. I need this acceptance to mold within me.
Darkness was no longer lingering moonlight. Shadows were no longer shaded reflections of one-self. This fog was no longer my imagination, but an entity. Tonight it came alive, it broke out of my ribcage like an Alien resurrection and pleaded guilty on my behalf. This black tool of hostility, this object of fear, chaos, and rejection. Were these desires so wrong? Is this courtroom liable to charge me with blame?
I am alone in this, a monster that cannot be tamed.
Before this day, I had no God, I perceived a will of my own. I dreamt of love, empathy, independence, free-will, and a future derived from desire. I caked on layers of a false reality, life as I had imagined it; a fairy-tale of sorts. I deemed those horrific gut feelings as miss-interpretations or romance, as if pain and loneliness didn’t exist and as if the only emptiness ever felt reeked of starvation.
I was young. I was young and sadly mistaken.
This love I created out of thin air emasculated Pandora’s Box as it mastered the art of perception into a nightmare of deception. This altered reality grew so far away from the movies that people were crippled by it, broken hearted, incomplete. It created this illusion that happiness could come from somebody else, and in turn, once that person walked out you were left to decay among your own sadness. Such a joy love was. Such a joy melted into pain once the brush of reality painted over all recognition among perfection.
Empathy was chopped away once my own pathetic withdrawal was invisible to my neighbours. How could they feel nothing? Their eyes always searched mine in need of a connection but nothing was ever shared. Only emptiness as the human resort to personalized humanity could no longer be sustained through my hollow perception of what man could never attain to be. Peaceful.
Independence was a healthy endeavour, the act of surviving alone. However this act of surviving alone ends up making you feel alone. As you go about your daily life, one can stimulate similarities between them and somebody else manoeuvring through the same motions. However, emotionally is not as simple. Emotional attachments take years to manipulate, to create. Connections take similar experiences, for people alike are more likely to make the same decisions which in-turn forms a mental connection.
It takes two people psychologically alike to spark the interpretation of friendship. The chances of this are rare. As it’s rather impossible for two people with the same conscience to go through the same experiences and make the same choices and meet. It’s more likely to consider the person who experienced it with you as your friend, then somebody you told it to later, but this is quite impossible.
This is why independence can lead to loneliness, because if you choose to experience things by yourself than you are refusing the opportunity to gain a mental connection. Independence is good, although without balance, you could potentially end up alone.
This line of independence conflicts and contrasts with free-will because in almost all situations you have a choice to go about it alone or include somebody else. Free-will also indulges guilt because if you choose to go about it independently and end up alone, you blame yourself for considering the plainly wrong choice. Hence why people might say, “well if you end up alone, you’ll have nobody else to blame but yourself.”
This all tangles up into choice, but not just any choice. Choices that melt together to form your future, because your future is derived from your choices, choices usually made at the hand of your desire. Hence, the future is derived from desire.
I was young. Young and sadly mistaken. Now I am alone in this, a monster that cannot be tamed. I used to be a dreamer, of all things beautiful and loved. Everything that pumped glittery hopes and smashing dreams. Now, now I'm not so sure miracles exist. I'm not even sure I do these days. It seems that emotions, the darker ones, conquer. This blanket of black mist, it's weightless but sunken. It's penetrated me and I can't stand as tall anymore. One day I'll escape this depression, one day I'll be rid of it forever. One day.
One day I will dream again, I will create another magical world and it will become my reality. One day I'll be happy. I'll be the Princess I've always wanted to be. One day... and I suppose that's all I need. Faith. Faith that one day, one day it'll all work out.
