On the road to Nowhere
"You have to become completely disillusioned, then the truth begins to express itself in it's own way." - U.G. Krishnamurti.
I can only hope that's what will happen to me, since there is nothing else anymore. Everything has been washed away, demolished, torn down, destroyed. My life has gone to pieces, it's not a life at all, rather a bunch of consecutive meaningless moments. So where's that so-called Truth? What am I supposed to do?
Nothing people say makes any sense to me, it's all part of the dream, I can't ignore it anymore. I seem to be increasingly aware of this. Sometimes I get caught up in the moment and it's like I'm in a slumber, but shortly after I come to my senses and realize what happened, then just slide back into observer mode, which is starting to feel more natural.
It's the main reason why I'm having trouble writing my name at the bottom of these entries. I don't identify with that name as much as I did before. Yeah, that probably sounds weird to someone who doesn't know what's going on, but what do you think it's like for me? I don't feel comfortable with my own name anymore. I don't seem to feel comfortable with anything.
Although.. yes, you could say I felt reasonably comfortable walking alongside the canal in the darkness of this autumn evening. I went for another walk and I finally found a nice route: I have to cross a main road but once I get across there's a small foot-path with trees on either side of the canal, no streetlights, just enough light for me not to trip over my own two feet. In the evening it's quite dark and therefore almost deserted, people don't like to walk in the dark, it scares them.
I headed down the steps to a small harbor and picked a spot near the water. I just sat there in stealth mode, huddled in my enormous, red men's coat so I wouldn't be bothered by dog owners and the likes. It was very calming, big bodies of water soothe me and warm me on the inside. So now I have somewhere to go, thank God for that. Halfway there is a not much used footbridge and it was lovely to stand there with the wind and rain in my face looking out over the water and the distant lights. In spite of my current 'situation', I'm grateful for my newly discovered route, it suits me.
Hey, I'm not all complaints you know, I can be grateful for little things, like the cup of hot chocolate I'm enjoying right now, mmmh.. delicious.
I just have to get this off my chest I guess... this blog-thing is starting to resemble a real diary. It's like talking to someone that understands although I can't think of anyone who truly could, my imagination is making this worthwhile since I wouldn't know how to explain what I'm going through to friends and family.. what can be said? "Hey, I'm doing something worse than suicide so I can't talk to you for a while, but don't worry, and oh, afterwards the person/sister/friend you have always known as M. is evaporated, gone, dissolved into nothing, so bye now". Frustrating business, only thing I can say is "I don't feel so good, going through some tough times", vague comments like that.
And nobody knows what's going on in this gray area. It can be compared to the image on my tv-screen this afternoon, the broadcast giving way to static. That's what my life feels like at the moment, it's disintegrating into something unrecognizable, mere dots in different shades of gray, projected onto a screen.
Scary I tell you, although in a historical backdrop it's kind of exciting at the same time: stepping out of the evolutionary theater, waking up from the collective dream, what heresy! An adventure like no other, the last and only real Adventure I might add. What did I get myself into? No tow-trucks here, no signs, no phone-booths, not even roads, wow. Good thing I have a solid inner compass.
Feel somewhat better after writing all this.
***me
I can only hope that's what will happen to me, since there is nothing else anymore. Everything has been washed away, demolished, torn down, destroyed. My life has gone to pieces, it's not a life at all, rather a bunch of consecutive meaningless moments. So where's that so-called Truth? What am I supposed to do?
Nothing people say makes any sense to me, it's all part of the dream, I can't ignore it anymore. I seem to be increasingly aware of this. Sometimes I get caught up in the moment and it's like I'm in a slumber, but shortly after I come to my senses and realize what happened, then just slide back into observer mode, which is starting to feel more natural.
It's the main reason why I'm having trouble writing my name at the bottom of these entries. I don't identify with that name as much as I did before. Yeah, that probably sounds weird to someone who doesn't know what's going on, but what do you think it's like for me? I don't feel comfortable with my own name anymore. I don't seem to feel comfortable with anything.
Although.. yes, you could say I felt reasonably comfortable walking alongside the canal in the darkness of this autumn evening. I went for another walk and I finally found a nice route: I have to cross a main road but once I get across there's a small foot-path with trees on either side of the canal, no streetlights, just enough light for me not to trip over my own two feet. In the evening it's quite dark and therefore almost deserted, people don't like to walk in the dark, it scares them.
I headed down the steps to a small harbor and picked a spot near the water. I just sat there in stealth mode, huddled in my enormous, red men's coat so I wouldn't be bothered by dog owners and the likes. It was very calming, big bodies of water soothe me and warm me on the inside. So now I have somewhere to go, thank God for that. Halfway there is a not much used footbridge and it was lovely to stand there with the wind and rain in my face looking out over the water and the distant lights. In spite of my current 'situation', I'm grateful for my newly discovered route, it suits me.
Hey, I'm not all complaints you know, I can be grateful for little things, like the cup of hot chocolate I'm enjoying right now, mmmh.. delicious.
I just have to get this off my chest I guess... this blog-thing is starting to resemble a real diary. It's like talking to someone that understands although I can't think of anyone who truly could, my imagination is making this worthwhile since I wouldn't know how to explain what I'm going through to friends and family.. what can be said? "Hey, I'm doing something worse than suicide so I can't talk to you for a while, but don't worry, and oh, afterwards the person/sister/friend you have always known as M. is evaporated, gone, dissolved into nothing, so bye now". Frustrating business, only thing I can say is "I don't feel so good, going through some tough times", vague comments like that.
And nobody knows what's going on in this gray area. It can be compared to the image on my tv-screen this afternoon, the broadcast giving way to static. That's what my life feels like at the moment, it's disintegrating into something unrecognizable, mere dots in different shades of gray, projected onto a screen.
Scary I tell you, although in a historical backdrop it's kind of exciting at the same time: stepping out of the evolutionary theater, waking up from the collective dream, what heresy! An adventure like no other, the last and only real Adventure I might add. What did I get myself into? No tow-trucks here, no signs, no phone-booths, not even roads, wow. Good thing I have a solid inner compass.
Feel somewhat better after writing all this.
***me
posted by M. at 10:10 AM
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