(no subject)
Does anyone else suffer from this clouded vision? Where you are headed and who you are seem lost to you, in some poetic sense, though very real.
Always this question beats into my chest, more and more each day. And all I can think to do is sleep. to try and forget. I feel sick at times. Sickened both by the distractions I hide in and this yawning absence of an answer. This sickness a cruel dagger slowly cutting at me. And always already driven on by the desperate impulse to avoid pain. This organism cannot escape discomfort, but it mobilizes all of its energy in some futile calculation, some failure of a strategy. To answer the unanswerable. To solve the unsolvable.
And all the while, what we do seals our fates, we become nothing more than the question itself, like a body so covered in sores and wounds that there no longer is anything but wound, and all else fades away.
All of us questions. All of us.
Always this question beats into my chest, more and more each day. And all I can think to do is sleep. to try and forget. I feel sick at times. Sickened both by the distractions I hide in and this yawning absence of an answer. This sickness a cruel dagger slowly cutting at me. And always already driven on by the desperate impulse to avoid pain. This organism cannot escape discomfort, but it mobilizes all of its energy in some futile calculation, some failure of a strategy. To answer the unanswerable. To solve the unsolvable.
And all the while, what we do seals our fates, we become nothing more than the question itself, like a body so covered in sores and wounds that there no longer is anything but wound, and all else fades away.
All of us questions. All of us.