[Glaring at the mirror everyday looking at me and me alone.]
"Why don't you do something to better youself instead of just sitting around making excuses"
"I don't want to"
"Why you sacred to work be better, win, lose"
"Yeah i am afraid, i am afraid of loss, i am afraid of challenges, i am afraid of pain, i am afraid of.... everything"
[Out of 8 billion people on earth this is my story and i fell like it's coming it's near end, it's still feels frustrating, disgusting and whatever bad words you can think of that i lived my life like this and will probably to continue live like this but right now i am in control of it i choose to continue live like this in sense it's both frustrating and calming.
~Perfectly balanced~
I can keep on talking about my vision of future or past on what i want to be, what i wanted to be, who am i, what was i but at the end you don't know what's truly ahead of your life be it success, loss, balance, imbalance you don't know till the moment you die.
Past is just past untouchable, unchangeable, a memory of reality that guides you, shapes you on who your are as a person and a being of living.
Though it's terrible path to life and death
I will still continue to live on until my life runs out pushing myself day by day saying to my self just one more more and more days to live cause one thing that i learn from my life is the values of things, it's expensive, it's rigorous and precise be it having a poor, normal or rich life be it having a friend, love, respect...
Ability to walk, talk, crawl, stand, run normally.
Ability to walk, talk, crawl, stand, run cowardly.
Ability to walk, talk, crawl, stand, run
proudly.
My story is gonna keep on moving forward and will keep it moving forward but i also know and fear that in the back of my mind i want it to end once for all at the end i am a human even if have some will to keep living on i also has urges to end it all. Human obsession to death... it's far more greater than people realise, when asked will your die for your loved most answers yes but then a question arises for most people... why not live for the things you love? Why not work hard for the things you love?
As for a plan to keep on living i say just do nothing wait and wait and wait and if an opportunity comes use it if it doesn't just rott away trying to act happy with the life you chose.]
20 YEARS LATER
[OHH Hey their it's been a while since i talked about my life.
Life hasn't changed much over the years still following the same beliefs, morality stuff right know i am just doing labour works, construction, cleaning whatever work i could find the earnings is not high but it's enough to just survive
My parents died when i was about 25
As expected of them though possessing quite some properties i only got about 10% of it.
And as expected not a shed of tears came out of my eyes in their death.
After that i cut contacts with my sisters and pretty much everyone i knew.
But life kinda felt really really empty after that i don't really have full understanding of why that is but from what i believe it's probably due to the fact that the concept of violence and negativity was edged into my brain as normal part of my life but after it all end i felt empty more than ever.
I don't know if i hate this feeling of a sense of peace or love it.
Ignoring past stuff today i am getting my payment. I am not really much of a spender so i have been saving some money for quite a while one of the things that came to my mind to battle myself when i was younger was to get therapy but i wasn't quite able to due to lack of money. I suppose i have enough for now so i book an appointment for tomorrow and as always i don't really know what to expect of it.]
A day later
[Therapist: Dr. Aris (50s, warm, observant, patient)
Client: Me Prostp (Mid-30s)]
[The office is quite nice. Late afternoon sun slants through the window, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air. I sit slumped.
Session has been going on for several minutes.]
Dr. Aris: Prostp, you mentioned feeling 'empty' minute ago. That word came up again now. Can you... describe that emptiness? What does it feel like? Is it a feeling of sadness? Loneliness?
[Huh what does she expect me to say it empty feeling for a reason.]
"No. Not... feelings. It's... nothing. Like... static. White noise. But... silent static. It's not feeling bad. It's... not feeling."
Dr. Aris: Not feeling. Like numbness?
[Numbness... does she mean like i do not feel pain or something]
"It's like absence without the awareness. Just... blank. Vacant. I wake up. I exist. I move... through the day. I eat. I sleep. I work But... it's like watching footage. Bad footage. Grainy. No sound. No context."
Dr. Aris: Like you're observing yourself?
[I guy you could say that but]
"I don't... know anything, Dr. Aris. Not like... facts. I mean... knowing. Understanding. Why things matter? Why it doesn't matter. Why it connects. Why it doesn't connect. Its like living reading a manual for how to live."
Dr. Aris: And the world around you? Other people?
"Flat. Two-dimensional. Cardboard cutouts moving on tracks. Their words... sounds. Meaningless sounds. Like a language I've forgotten. I try... sometimes. To listen. To care. But it... slides off. Doesn't adhere. Doesn't... register. It's equivalent of watching ants. Busy. Purposeful. Utterly... incomprehensible.
Dr. Aris: That sounds incredibly isolating, Prostp. Like being trapped behind thick, soundproof glass.
"More like... being the glass. Or like being a corpse. Propped up. Functioning. Heart beats. Lungs inflate. But... inside? Nothing. Cold. Still. Empty space where... thoughts should hum, feelings should flow. Just... hollow. Rotting quietly. No pulse inside the mind. No spark."
Dr. Aris:(Leans forward slightly, her voice gentle but probing) That's a powerful image, Prostp. A corpse. That profound stillness. That decay. Does anything... penetrate that stillness? Even momentarily? A sunset? Music? The taste of food?
"Yeah"
Dr. Aris: So what penetrates it?
"Thoughts that i have which leads to nothing just be being still like a rock"
Dr. Aris: And the stillness inside... is it peaceful? Or is it... terrifying?
"Both"
Dr. Aris: (Her gaze is unwavering, filled with deep empathy and concern.) That weight. That suffocation. That feeling or lack of feeling of being utterly adrift... it must be agonizing in its own way. I notice... you keep looking at your hand and keep rubbing off that index finger. Did something happen? Something... related to this weight?
[The silence stretches, thick and heavy. I doesn't move. I stared straight ahead, but my focus has turned inward, into the terrifying emptiness i described. My breathing remains unnervingly even.]
"Happened..."
Dr. Aris:...
"Happened? No. Not... happened. I made it happen."
Dr. Aris: You made it happen?
"I cut it off"
Dr. Arisu: Cut it off? as in choice?
"Choice...Was it a choice? Or... an experiment? A... signal?The static... the corpse-feeling... it was so thick. So... absolute. Like being buried alive in cotton wool. Smothered. I was in the kitchen. Standing. Just... existing. The knife block. The knives... they were... present. Defined. Sharp. Real. Everything else... fuzzy. Distant. Unreal."
Dr. Aris: The knives felt real.
"...No but the pain that come from it. It was more real than me. More real than... anything inside me. I picked one up. Cold steel. Solid weight. A sensation. A... real sensation. Cutting through the static. For a second. I held my finger out. Over the sink. I looked at it. Just... meat. Bone. Fingernail. Part of the... the walking corpse. And I thought...if I cut it. If I remove a piece... will I feel it? Will the corpse feel it? Will there be... a crack? A fissure? In the nothingness? Will the blood... will it be proof? Proof that something is still circulating? That something... happens?
I.... I wanted to feel alive just one time."