(no subject)
They call it tunnel vision. Eyesight limited to the bare minimum, no periperal aids, no cornersight, just a straightaway towards that one picture playing across your horizon. Sportscasters speak of it often, observing athletes as they concentrate on nothing but the ball or end zone. Drivers get it when they've been traveling long distances at high speeds. Hunters and snipers see it through a scope.
Me? I get it all the time.
My life has become nothing more than a succession of streetlights and cigarettes; traveling nowhere fast but its taking oh so long. The myriad of responsibilities on my plate no longer exist, they have filtered into a future-tense existence with no intention on arriving in present time. Depression is no longer a feeling, it is merely a state of being. And yet, i'm not sad, nor am i angry. No, this is more of a cynical, sardonic habit of life which never seems to change, save minor nuances that i would hardly notice or care to remmember anyway. And yet the days go on; seasons change (as much as they could in this subtropical climate) and times and dates cycle their way through my calender, announced by nothing more than subtle ticks of clocks and moving hands, watches and schedules never fazed me, you see. Time and i seem to have parted ways, going our separate paths, only to meet awkwardly when we least expect it, and then we do our business and show ourselves the door.
Moving to orlando seems like the best available option now. Its a shame that i can't take some things with me (or some people) but perhaps thats the way things should stay. One thing is certain; whatever i came here in search of does not reside here, and the longer i stay in this city, the longer it will elude me. There have been good times, and there have been bad ones. Most will be forgotten. The few that i remmember will help send me in the right direction. I have come to the conclusion that anything i go about from here on out will either be in preparation for the things to come, or they will be meaningless and futile. Those things that are futile will be discarded and i will accept that there are some things that some people should not have, for whatever reason. I accept this truth, and move on with my life as if it never happened. Why should i bother running into brick walls?
Even the thought of meeting new people or rekindling old friendships seems futile to me. If i wasn't a friend to you before, it wasn't because i wasn't willing, it was because it wasn't meant to be at the time. Strong words for one who chastises fatalists, but truth is truth. But this much will be said; there are so many of you who i've met and seen and perhaps even accompanied throughout various moments of my life here. and out of you all, there are so many of you that i wished could have been closer to me. I wanted to know so much about so many of you. But that connection was never made. And thats okay. I wish you well, still. And perhaps we will meet again in the years to come, and who is to say that we might not become the dearest of friends then? But for the moment, i am spent, and i am done wasting my time trying to make something out of what apparently is nothing.
But don't fret, loves. Its not as bad as it seems. I'll remmember you until my memory shorts out, as i hope you would do in my place. If i forget you, im sorry, it wasn't on purpose. Perhaps you'll remind me? I hope you will.
After all, we're only human...
Right?
Me? I get it all the time.
My life has become nothing more than a succession of streetlights and cigarettes; traveling nowhere fast but its taking oh so long. The myriad of responsibilities on my plate no longer exist, they have filtered into a future-tense existence with no intention on arriving in present time. Depression is no longer a feeling, it is merely a state of being. And yet, i'm not sad, nor am i angry. No, this is more of a cynical, sardonic habit of life which never seems to change, save minor nuances that i would hardly notice or care to remmember anyway. And yet the days go on; seasons change (as much as they could in this subtropical climate) and times and dates cycle their way through my calender, announced by nothing more than subtle ticks of clocks and moving hands, watches and schedules never fazed me, you see. Time and i seem to have parted ways, going our separate paths, only to meet awkwardly when we least expect it, and then we do our business and show ourselves the door.
Moving to orlando seems like the best available option now. Its a shame that i can't take some things with me (or some people) but perhaps thats the way things should stay. One thing is certain; whatever i came here in search of does not reside here, and the longer i stay in this city, the longer it will elude me. There have been good times, and there have been bad ones. Most will be forgotten. The few that i remmember will help send me in the right direction. I have come to the conclusion that anything i go about from here on out will either be in preparation for the things to come, or they will be meaningless and futile. Those things that are futile will be discarded and i will accept that there are some things that some people should not have, for whatever reason. I accept this truth, and move on with my life as if it never happened. Why should i bother running into brick walls?
Even the thought of meeting new people or rekindling old friendships seems futile to me. If i wasn't a friend to you before, it wasn't because i wasn't willing, it was because it wasn't meant to be at the time. Strong words for one who chastises fatalists, but truth is truth. But this much will be said; there are so many of you who i've met and seen and perhaps even accompanied throughout various moments of my life here. and out of you all, there are so many of you that i wished could have been closer to me. I wanted to know so much about so many of you. But that connection was never made. And thats okay. I wish you well, still. And perhaps we will meet again in the years to come, and who is to say that we might not become the dearest of friends then? But for the moment, i am spent, and i am done wasting my time trying to make something out of what apparently is nothing.
But don't fret, loves. Its not as bad as it seems. I'll remmember you until my memory shorts out, as i hope you would do in my place. If i forget you, im sorry, it wasn't on purpose. Perhaps you'll remind me? I hope you will.
After all, we're only human...
Right?