The 21st Year Living
Another day has passed now… I remain standing on the thin tight rope which lays above my downfall.
There seem to be only so many more ‘feel good’ shows left, and the comedies which once made me chuckle are now becoming sickly.
The sight of my mother keeps me functioning though, but the inevitable future is beginning to constantly petrify and agitate me as I attempt to gain rest, as the gritty morning light appears... I can see that this solitude will be permanent in the coming years.
I crave hope for a future, but I seem to be reenacting the rabbit who chases the carrot which is attached to his back, and hangs over to appear before him as he follows…
Only a few years ago, I was full of vivacity and zest. But now the only thing left of the zest is the sour after taste I bathe in.
I am still very young, but remember being even younger. I remember being frightened of those who wanted to curse my existence due to their own self loathing and anger towards this cruel world. I would hide from those who sucked my blood and only wanted more and fresh blood to follow. I would stand with those who actually cared for me, and slowly the ones who cared to a worthy extent, exited the frame. And I would walk alone to lead myself back to my front door, to hug the one who birthed me.
I wake up at 2 o’clock in the afternoon these days, so I can be closer to the comfort of darkness I yearn for… I don’t eat well, don’t exercise and I smoke whenever I finish the damaging food I struggle to finish. I am a self pitying and spoilt human. Spoilt in the sense that I am graced to be breathing, but I feel my angry that the breaths are still exiting and entering my body.
I always refused to take drugs, and rarely experimented in them, but now I understand why those who indulge in such vices, do so. And if I was to be alone, I’m sure I’d be able to source a comforting produce.
I remember the days of innocence, when stealing a pen from a store as my friends in school owned better ones than I did was a sin, I remember being shy when wanting to approach a girl I fantasised about, and that my dreams of playing football were still open for me to grab and pursue… I miss my cheek being appreciated, and I miss not wanting to go home due to the amount of fun the outside world supplied for me… I miss police chases for harmless crimes, this was my adrenaline, I miss the thought that when I grew up my success would be the point of living… But now success is what I fear, as the higher you get, the harder you fall…
I now run out of breath when in sight of a rounded ball one uses to kick, and any association with a police officer is one to avoid. I miss laughing out of actual joy, I miss my teenage angst being the thought that I couldn’t watch an over 18 movie in cinemas, or that I may be in trouble if my parents or teachers found me smoking… I miss the appreciation of my innocence, and that the adults around me knew my bad aspects would come from a good heart, and knew I did have a good heart.
To write this is not to depress those who read.. But I have read other subjects issues and problems before and felt better about myself. Which is the gloomy achievement of an aspect in the same category as what one would see as happiness. Maybe I am being selfish for thinking those who read this will care, maybe they do, but what good can care do for a flower that is already dead…
Maybe it is the technology and industry I found myself in… Maybe it is the fact that at one point when being a nomad who prides in running around, you realise you are alone by choice.. And to find somewhere to go and belong becomes unapparent. The absent virtue of belonging.
People would think, he is doing well? He is loved? He has family? He has a home? A plate with food on it? He has health?
But what is the use of that when one doesn’t want to exist.
I am scared of the internet, but I am a lazed contradiction as I use it, and am connected to it as I write. But I am still scared. I am scared of the future of not just myself, but for the next generation, I am scared for those who have access to a realm of urgency to social acceptance from a young age. I am lucky to have escaped this realm for quite a few years, but now I see the change of my eyes and smile in the mirror from then and now.
Maybe this is a phase… who knows.. Maybe I want attention, but I doubt it as I seem to shrivel within my insecurities when I receive it. Maybe I am deluded? But I know no human who isn’t anymore.
Maybe this is just the world… And I have fallen victim to believing this isn’t how it is supposed to be, and I am unlucky to have been placed in the society I find myself in.. Maybe I am selfish and believe I deserve better.. When all I deserve is to have not been born.
It was Christmas two days ago, and I bought presents which I was irritatingly scammed for, and I still found a way to blame the harshness and lack of empathy in the world, when it was my true fault for lacking a common sense in trusting another human… My mother then told me a story about a father who stood at the top of the stairs and told his child to run and jump towards him, as he would catch the child to prevent him from falling down the stairs… The father moves, and tells his child to not trust anybody in this world… My mother telling me this still shocked me at the age of 21, as I thought it was just the social circles I surrounded myself with, but her story ensured me that we are to live and die alone.
I miss the concept that I thought one day I would get married and potentially have a child… But from seeing so many of my associates parents divorced, I believe there is a fault in this system.. But I am scared to not get married, as I feel I will be potentially causing a halt in the family development which my Lebanese, Greek mother and English father continued. I am also scared of knowing I will be alone for my entire life, as I am already sick of this abandonment I feel while surrounded by family and friends.
I am paranoid that a family member reads this and believes I am depressed and that my parents are to blame… But in reality my family are the ones who have given me a reason to live… I am now used to a level of success which I began obtaining from the moment I left school and let those older than me know I was a determined kid, ready to do my part in the world. Whether that was taking a photo, creating a product, or creating a film. I am scared off not wanting it or succeeding anymore.. And I know I will never work a full time job, as I am too feeble minded to retain such a style of life. I have spoilt myself, and when observing that term mean it quite literally as well as the way it is known as.
But here I am, still here. Paranoia has replaced hope of what the future holds for me… Wishing I was religious and that I believed in some sort of fate and hope for the moment my body decays and whatever this soul is finds a place to exist… But I am not, and I feel as if I am insulting any higher power to search for its guidance during the times I am not in a good state. But that is my reason now, to avoid being faced with a black screen. As now I know emotion, and from knowing my mother and having a dog, I know love.
So I guess it is circle time again, and the swing of moods has twirled to its tightest form and now surely has to unravel.