The nights grow darker and the years get longer. The longer my nightmare stretches the more I know that I am not alive. Everything is the start of something else. I can’t think of a worse place to live. Yet I have to stay. The heat it lingers throughout the night. The nights have become my life in more ways than one. The isolating darkness takes a hold of my soul, of my life. My will is dictated by a sunless sky. The stars they shine bright but I don’t care for the moon or the stars. A backdrop to my existence.
I don’t miss the sun. The more I think about it. I don’t know what I miss about my life before. I don’t know anything anymore. A vampire in a vampireless world. The impending joy of anyone who talks to me annoys me more than I care to explain. I wish things were different, but if they were I would miss how they were. My I don’t care attitude is all I have become. It has consumed me beyond anything I recognize anymore. Consumed me body and soul. I no longer care as I embrace what I am becoming. The blood flows and the heart pumps, and that is all anyone cares about.
Feelings only make this harder than it needs to be. I do this to myself. I do this by choice. Things could always be worse. Things could always be better. I could live a normal life even at night. Laziness is all this is. Self-loathing is all I have left. Some part of me still exists in here. In my head. I try to strangle it. Put it down, but it only comes back once again. My life is my will and my choice. Do I really believe this or am I just trying to justify the circumstances? I’m not sure what I believe in anymore. Is there a God?
I am no longer sure of that either. I’m not sure if I ever believed in such things. I guess by now you could say I am an atheist, but what do titles every really mean? We give titles and labels to things that don’t matter or need them. Above all things I am human. What that means anymore is lost on me. The days are nights and the nights are days, and I am more backward than when I began this path. Anymore everything is not what it means. Happiness is nothing more than an idea, a trick of the brain, and I can’t fathom happiness on the happiest day. I can barely hang on to an idea for longer than I need it. I use each thought to get to the next one and before I know it I have forgotten what it was all about.
The idea is to be myself but I have forgotten who I am. A name, a person, alive in less ways than one. How much longer until none of this matters? How much longer until I become an idea long forgotten? I once cared but I don’t care anymore.
Update on last month… So I never got around to my proposed piece of 5 Words I like and One I Hate… Well, I started it and then I realized something about the word I chose… So that opened more wounds than intended… I will be writing more about that, but needless to say, it changed the whole piece I was working on in my head… Hopefully, I can get to it this month…
I’ve entered some stories and poems to a few literary magazines and publications… Inspired by my friend Eric… Couldn’t let him hog all the rejections… so hopefully, that pans out… Probably won’t know for another six months, but I will keep you posted if it actually happens… More so if it doesn’t… haha… Which means that there will be some Friday story reposts… Deal with it Fox… : )
Dictated but not read…