The important thing is to sit yourself down in a closed space, a downright suffocating space, say like a bathroom - and let the walls close in on you. You have to let your mind replay every single horror, every tiniest bit of pain, every slice of overarching absurdity, every ounce of humiliation - in abject clarity, absolute myopia; to the point that there remains no other need in this world, on this planet for you, than to open your eyes, breathe in tonnes of oxygen and just get the hell out of that place before the walls become carnivorous, living things and bear down on you. But the idea is to do just the opposite. It is to defy that very, downright human need to bail. To escape. The idea is, my dear: to feel your shoulders sag, and your soul and psyche feel crushed under the invisible iron weight of the walls closing in on you - to be dehumanized by the hands of fear. Suffocation. You find within yourself the inhuman forbearance to sit still while your legs are trembling and you are being overwrought by the urge to get up, kick something, yell, and run out into an open space and breathe so hard your feel you arent choking anymore. You have to do that. And in that perchance moment you do; you will know what truly the nadir is. The absolute low point of human existence. The downright loneliness that always haunts the shadows will show itself in its full glory and you will know that you are changed; that you will never forget this feeling of abysmal ghostliness, the aloneness and the emptiness. You will know that it will have settled within you, with the an imperceptible thud, sinking right to the bottom of you - a salty, muddy sediment upon your soul. You will find it difficult after that to laugh at stupid jokes and dream frivolous dreams and entertain shallow people who laugh too much and show too much teeth when they are laughing. You will feel a certain stubborn darkness follow you around without respite and you will not really mind it. You will sleep with demons every night in your bed but you wont feel the need to turn on the lights or say a stupid, pointless prayer; well because: That day, remember when the walls walked up to you like living things, all closing in on you and sat upon your shoulders like evil spirits trying to crush you? Yes. Right then you had looked your demons in the eye and guess what, my lovely, my beautiful, broken friend --- it didnt kill you. Facing your fears, looking them in the eye --- didnt kill you. It changed you. But it didnt kill you. You relentless, reluctant survivor. You are here. And you survived. You are changed. But you are here. And I dont know if it matters or not, but it sure feels fearless. And I dont know much, but i sure know this, that : feeling that way has always been the point. You go.
Posted on: Tue, 19 Nov 2013 22:22:36 +0000