by SR
“Who’s there?” First, I look through the peephole, but don’t see anyone. Then, I open the door just a smidge, so I can get a safe look before I let the potential intruder in.
Oh. “Not you again. Come on, come on in”. I fear what is about to be done to me, but I know it’s inevitable.
Such depravity is unimaginable for even the most vigorous of folks. How it sinks its teeth into my shuddering flesh, only to realize that all the blood has been drained already – I’ve come before it. Have taken it from it. One could call such action, such masochist motion petty, childish even. But to me, it is no such thing.
The blood is not the issue, it never has been. It is the tearing of my own flesh, my own soul by a foreign entity that bothers me. I’ve been used to it by myself; I have never been particularly positive – an optimist. I would call myself a realist, but anyone who knows me would always use hyperbole, a pessimist, that’s what I am.
Without realizing it, piece by piece, I have been destroying my own soul. Us – humankind – is not supposed to think this much. I reckon, consciousness was granted to us for daily tasks, daily life, but not for matters such as I am debating within my mind. It’s simply too much, not the intention of the universe for me to go so far. I feel myself becoming fluid, one with my surroundings and at the same time, distancing myself from them, becoming more and more alienated from everyone around me.
Social contact recedes and I find myself in a spot where I am indifferent. Humans are meant to be social, meant to live in herds, reproduce, raise offspring. But I am alone.
No, perhaps not entirely alone, but lonely. The loneliness has crept up rather slowly and unbeknownst to me, but before I know it, I am drowning in it. Well, no, that’s not true. At one point I knew it was surrounding me, all I could think of, but I didn’t stop it, didn’t think to ask for help because that’s what loneliness does to you.
I’m not drowning in it, no. It’s a blanket covering me and offering comfort. And I’ve taken it. It’s so comfortable, I’ve fallen asleep several times, letting it devour me in my resting state. I have let down my guard to loneliness, and it is invading me – taking me over, making me into itself. One plus one equals one. I am loneliness.
However, I am mistaken. The loneliness is not the comfort; but being alone, and soon it pains me to have nobody in my life. Nobody doesn’t mean I don’t talk to people, it meant I don’t let them view me, the entirety of me.
Growing up this way has had its drawbacks, but you can just feel what advantages it has had too. I’ve lived through intelligent evolution, day after day after day. Through the nightmare that is, lastly, loneliness day after day forever and ever. This infinite loop never stops. I don’t want anyone to notice I am lonely. I make up lies. I am a pathological liar.
Life never stops. I have known that. Albeit the reason I’ve re-entered the cycle is, because I want to hurt this time. I choose to. It has already begun.
© SR 2023-08-28