I know that somewhere in my dreams I see something worth chasing, a silver lining to this madness. I know that there is meaning in everything, understanding to uncover, purpose awaiting discovery, and liberation. If only I were good at puzzles, skilled in deciphering perplexion. If only some of it made sense to me.
Today I’m stressed, so I figure I’d write to get the edge off, like smoking a cigarette. This is the healthy alternative, but as usual, it all feels so forced. Bound to a limited set of roads to travel. It’s no wonder we go mad.
Now, where do I go? Again, I’m showered in emptiness, of being the last one to wake up, the last to fall asleep.
Even the smallest hint of progress would be sufficient to reignite my momentum. At least, as of today, this is what I think.
This is the reason I stumble, it’s why I fall into pieces, why I constantly chase my tail, why I find it so difficult to make sense out of it all. Why sometimes it’s so difficult to put the pen down, why it’s even harder to pick it up.
There have been moments where I thought I would do something about the tragedy that I face. Instead, I end up running in circles, chasing my tail, going back and forth, finding nothing in the end. What a fool I make out of myself. Potatoes, tomatoes, pasta, chaotic chakras.
Where to now?
Today, I sat down with something in mind. Whatever it was, I’ve lost it. I thought I had it, and at one point, I suppose I did. I bet it was something good. Perhaps the best thing I’ve ever written. Perhaps not.
12 am, 1 am, 2, 3. In exchange for sleep, I grind out the minutes, the seconds; caffeine rushing through my blood, momentum blurring in the background. Something. Anything.
I’ve lost track of the topic, the time, reason. The minutes remain the same, they always do, and I always fail to notice. Paragraph after paragraph, picture after picture. Memories, like movies, credited to the cast, crew, and the creator.
Then I wonder if I’ll ever understand my purpose. I wonder why I ever thought I had anything figured out.
What I’ve learned is that I’ll never fully know, because life is unpredictable, surprising, chaotic. It comes in seasons and when a hurricane hits, it’s always better to have shutters. In other words, it’s a good idea to prepare for a disaster, even if only a small shower rains on us.
But who knows? Maybe I do understand. Perhaps today is different.