Waking up.
by tns
There seems to be this constant disconnection I’m feeling between the little spaces of almost everything. That space just seemingly keeps growing and growing. I’m wondering if eventually I will turn into one of those jaded hermits only really keeping company he is used to. I think to myself: all these people aspiring to do so much and here I am in my self-loathing. Yeah, it is all kind of done for nothing or maybe the idea that is it something. We all want to feel useful; literally or figuratively. We are so determined to feel accepted by either a group or just a single person. I am slowly feeling the disconnection between these feelings and reality. Sometimes I feel this is just all too debilitating to the point where I don’t want to bother. Then I realize I don’t think I’ve suffered enough to really feel much of anything… genuine.
This could be it, however. Maybe this is all I can be and this is the extent of myself. I’m waiting for some kind of inspiration–something to come to me “inexplicably and without method”. This kind of thing is on the cusp of existence. Potentially a unicorn or maybe some kind of fabricated dream. Perhaps very similar to faith; alone it hardly is useful but combined with something else and it could be pretty dangerous.
I’d like to believe I have some kind of value to what I do but increasingly it feels less and less important. My concern for my own well being as well as those around me tend to wander off into the background of white noise. Trying to find where the line is drawn is less important than realizing it doesn’t exist in a conventional sense.
I’ve stumbled upon nothing new, as usual.