Cogito ergo sum
And therein lies the dilemma. I might be thinking a bit too much. But at least my blog would be pleased to have my words rescue it from desolation. It probably thought it'll never see me again. I'm even surprised that it's still here, and seems to be waiting for me, despite my silence for more than a year. I guess now my blog feels pretty special that it got resurrected a week before Jesus Christ.
But there's a reason why I'm breaking this silence. I need this blog as much as it needs me. And probably now I need it more than it needs me. Once again, this blog will be my soul salvation.
-oOo-
Seven years ago I despaired over molehills like it was the end of the world. I threw tantrums and launched into histrionics over things that a five-year-old would--and I was 23 at the time. Which just proves that when you're young you know nothing. Yes, shame on me. But I'm thankful that that person (or persona) has decided to keep herself scarce nowadays.
Today, there's really nothing to despair about. For almost five years now, life has been good. But why do I feel as if I'm fraying around the edges? Why do I feel like bursting into tears at any moment, without provocation? Why do I feel as if time is passing me by when I'm moving so fast my shadow can hardly keep up with me? Why do I find myself trying so hard to get something done that I end up not getting anything done at all? And why, when I need it the most, is sleep evading me? Further, what do I make of the morbid thoughts that sneak into my head? And what about this nagging emptiness inside of me? I hate it with all the energy I have left in my tired mind and body. But the more I try to rid of it, the more it seems to conquer me.
I am bleeding but there is no wound. I am hurting in that empty space between the heart and the soul. And it scares the life out of me--literally.
I swear, sometimes I think I’m going crazy.
But there's a reason why I'm breaking this silence. I need this blog as much as it needs me. And probably now I need it more than it needs me. Once again, this blog will be my soul salvation.
-oOo-
Seven years ago I despaired over molehills like it was the end of the world. I threw tantrums and launched into histrionics over things that a five-year-old would--and I was 23 at the time. Which just proves that when you're young you know nothing. Yes, shame on me. But I'm thankful that that person (or persona) has decided to keep herself scarce nowadays.
Today, there's really nothing to despair about. For almost five years now, life has been good. But why do I feel as if I'm fraying around the edges? Why do I feel like bursting into tears at any moment, without provocation? Why do I feel as if time is passing me by when I'm moving so fast my shadow can hardly keep up with me? Why do I find myself trying so hard to get something done that I end up not getting anything done at all? And why, when I need it the most, is sleep evading me? Further, what do I make of the morbid thoughts that sneak into my head? And what about this nagging emptiness inside of me? I hate it with all the energy I have left in my tired mind and body. But the more I try to rid of it, the more it seems to conquer me.
I am bleeding but there is no wound. I am hurting in that empty space between the heart and the soul. And it scares the life out of me--literally.
I swear, sometimes I think I’m going crazy.