Remains To Be Seen
Is this where I am?
Remains to be seen. Just a question of time I suppose, before I lock up and die inside. Or am I already dead? Am I just a living husk of a life, devoid of true sentiments? A reflection of what I presume to be should be? Like crying for a sad movie, even if I do not feel the appropriate sadness.
It be, that world which I so love to loathe, yet love unequivocally. Why do I bring this on myself? Is it a self induced test? Or is it just a hatred of my being? What is it that I desire? What is it that I want?
I don’t know.
I just feel sad, and bad, and hopeless. What is there to live for? If I feel that what I’m living for is unattainable, through where I am living this, why should I even bother to live it so? It’s a measure, I suppose, of how confused I am. And it may not be just confusion. It might go beyond that. Is what I feel just plain laziness or is it a sadness I can’t comprehend?
Life, who lives it the way it’s supposed to? What is life? The culmination of dreams? If so, once these are reached, do you dream of life all over again?
That too, remains to be seen. But to see is to believe. Believe. Beliefs. What are mine? Are they truly mine or someone else’s? Are they what I feel to be is mine?
I cannot say.
Do I think clearly? I suppose as well as the next person. But is seeing clearly the ideal? Maybe in life, some things are meant to be seen as murky.
But does that really make sense?
Who am I to know all this? Even if I knew, what possibilities can I derive from it? Not much, just think on them I suppose.
So, will today shape up to be that day?
On a piece of paper, scribbled some years ago, I found this.
LogsLeft.
LogsLeft
