101418 II

It was a rather simple question, “Anything positive on the horizon?”

In trying to answer, I couldn’t get past the mundaneness of life’s everyday rhythm. There was nothing exciting. There was nothing noteworthy. I considered the response– “No, the usual; work and studies.” Against the quiet, expecting and blinking cursor of a reply box I had a sudden flashback of days gone by, where life’s pace was fast and furious, and a wonderful, delirious blur. Where provincial hadn’t yet swallowed an increasingly quotidian life, and where hopelessness hadn’t yet gnawed away at the adventurous, starry eyed, and more daring parts of me. Where I climbed those mountains to the apex of life and drank the nectar of the elixir of life. Those were the days. And what she would tell this person, who was curious enough to ask; she would have had so much to say with that natural tendency to galvanize whoever cared to listen.

Those were the days.

…Part of me feels like I can never go back to that; it’s the part of me that is broken and decrepit, and it quietly whispers “No more…”

The fall rendered it all irreparable. They say it’s how you get back up, but I shattered. And that’s the disappointing end, folks. Just hard, cold reality like the cement onto which glass, in its finality, breaks into a thousand tiny shards and pieces.

So I live everyday a simple life. I think less of tomorrow and even less of today. I’m often lost in the ruminations of someone else’s musings encapsulated within the pages of a book.

Broken, lost, decrepit, alone, suffering and without hope.
Freedom* found me then in the terror and despite the symptom of upset stomach, it’s never left me since.

*Reference to existentialism