For at least five years, I have been repressing. And containing. And forgetting. And avoiding. And denying. Everyone I’ve ever known, I have given a good justification to cut me off. To hate me. Some haven’t. Some have. Most have.
I don’t feel reality in the same way anymore. There is always a layer of self-imposed disinterest. There is always an escape plan, or an emergency evacuation button hidden somewhere. I have always pressed it just at the right moment to hurt the people involved, and alienate them as much as possible. But after all this time, It’s as if I don’t really take it seriously anymore. I feel like I should have moved on long ago. It’s always there, though. Waiting for me to acknowledge it.
Every relationship ends with someone casting me in their mold, and me rejecting that idea in the least diplomatic way possible, because almost nothing offends me more, in the larger picture. I have lived with pain that a lot of people could never imagine, with conceptualizations of the world that most can’t understand. The majority of people are “The Sheep”, and they symbolize, “The Sheep”, in my thoughts. That is all that they will ever be to me.
One thing I have always known is that if I could somehow bring myself down to the level of the deimos, I would find that generic, watered-down happiness that most people find at some point. And I have tried. But either that happiness doesn’t make me the least bit happy, or I am failing at emulating it. I only know that empty depth that comes with understanding the very bottom of human nature, or loss and pointlessness.
Just as I am trying to find that one guitar riff that inspires me and carries me through recording another album, so am I waiting to be inspired to find some path towards happiness. But, I know it’s not there. It never is. Somewhere, in the recesses of myself, I know that I will always be alone, and the scariest part of aging is slowly accepting that.
The words I chant when I am at my lowest are slowly becoming reality.
“I am going to die alone.”
”I will die alone.”
You have always been alone. People don't know you, and can never know you. They only mold their judgement of you according to your similarities to themselves; so they only know themselves. That is the deepest connection a human can have to another.
ReplyDeleteAccording to my judgement of you (I'm sorry if you didn't want one), you will never find happiness in such relationships, because you find such lack of genuineness and originality disgusting. As do I.