I feel sad.

    Whenever I feel down, I find it's best to hide it. A lot of people would steer me in directions detrimental to my condition. Some would point me toward drugs, while others may offer Jesus or something else outside of my reality. I cannot relate to these remedies as so, instead what others offer seems to be completely different to me.
Those I once confided in are gone at the moment, living their own lives out how they wish to. And it's useless to rely on others for any kind of emotional encouragement.
    In times like these, I realize what fascinates me about Eastern thought. How it molds my self-concept, grips my heart, and directs me toward inner peace. I am my own reality, and while the thoughts that pervade my mind may not always be under my will, I can expand my awareness. Detract myself from the existence I believe to be real.
    Really, I'm one for empathy. I love looking at life from another's perspective, yet this act also allows me to see how different I am. Time is not the same for me. I'm some kind of animal in the light of everyone else; I exist at a different pace. And at times while it seems everything passes me by, lifetimes dissolve, and I evolve into someone else.
    Lately I've been analyzing my thought processes. Why do I think of WHAT I do WHEN I do? What neurological impetus sparks those connections, launching me into some other mode of cognizance. My only answer now is to remove everything. Return to the source. Put chaos on hold and focus on the seemingly-eternal pulse of time. When I die and disappear, I am able to return fresh and new.
    Being the same person all the time is impossible, as well as boring. Nobody does it.
    I find motivation in obscure places. But when I find it, I can almost feel my own cellular structure collapsing and unfolding from within, zigzagging up to my brain. I am the manifestation of thought, the projection of this truth.
    As these words escape me, I am dissipating into time's often cruel destruction.

    Focus. Drive. Inner reality. Confidence. Realization. Awakening. Evolution.

    These are my keys to success. No one beyond this beating corpse is as real as this. Memories and creations. I remain unaffected by what I wish not to affect me, and forever shaped by my own art. Sadness and happiness are but emotional fancies, transient and apt to change. What I strive for is timeless, nearly unobtainable, distant, and far down the path of righteousness. Wake up. Blink. Become. Everything is here for you.

If you can only wake up.

Empty

Comments

[siptheteaburntheincense]

[this is good] I love this last part.  "Timeless. . .  If you can only wake up."  I couldn't have said it better myself, or read it at a better moment.