(no subject)
Jul. 21st, 2010 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Time winding on, winding down. My life marching inexorably on with every breath, no matter how slow I let myself move.
I become aware of what it means to actually live in the hours before I sleep. Every night is one more night I won't have to myself. Every night is one where I could die in my sleep, for no reason that medical science could determine... one where I pass off into dream and leave this body behind. And what would I have accomplished in that space, I wonder? If I died then and there, what would I be leaving behind?
Tick, tick. In a bathroom mirror I see myself getting older, not to my prime yet, not even close, but old enough that I can see where I've left myself behind. I worry about those things, even if they feel meaningless... musing on what I cannot change. There aren't many opportunities I've missed, I think, not many that haunt me to this day. I've led my life as honestly as possible, and tried to follow my passion, despite my fear and uncertainty. Is that enough? Is that all one can be?
I look down at my fingers as they effortlessly type away my thoughts, and I reminisce with my eyes closed, thinking of the times I've been angry, or when I've been hurtful or unjust. I think of all the hours I fritter away on useless things, on things I do to distract myself, to get away from the world. And all the while, every heartbeat, every breath, every movement of blood and tissue: Tick, tick, tick, tick.
I used to feel like I was trapped in my body. This heartbeat of mine felt oppressive, the ringing in my ears hauntingly endless. The every breath I took anchoring me to this world. I won't forget how terrifying it was to wake up one morning and be so tired that, even though my mind was awake, my body was still asleep. I had so very little control, even over my breathing, so that I only took the little breaths you take when you are no longer conscious. Eventually I tried to say, with slurred speech, "Help me. Help me." It took a while to get it out, and when I finally shouted it coherently I found myself sitting upwards, staring with wide eyes.
Talking of time, how many more days now? Four and a half weeks until I start a new chapter of my life in university. I got accepted into one of the cluster houses, and now I have to get the paperwork filled out and then I'm committed, back to basics, learning of the art of something I was born to be part of. I don't feel too excited about it, honestly, but perhaps that's because I'm not quite there yet. My mind hasn't caught up with those affairs, and in some ways it rejects excitement for fear of something new.
New subject: My brain has been shuffling things up strangely in my mind. I keep using similar-sounding, but wrong words or turns of phrases, and I mix people's names up more easily than usual. My mind seems more confused since I got to GIFTS, and I'm not sure why that is. Tiredness already? It's strange to me, and a little frightening. I already have wisdom teeth to deal with, do I really need to deal with my mind breaking down and glitching out? Damnit.
At least I can still read clocks. It's late, far too late to be up, and yet there's still things to do, still things to do. The more tired I get, the more I leave things beyond the last minute, so that then I am restless and exhausted but resolute in my purpose. So far, not a good night.
I think maybe I need a break. Maybe I can get Friday evening off, and Saturday can be spent in Victoria. I need to get away, just for a little while.
Oh, whatever. The floor can be mopped tomorrow. I resign myself to imperfection and resolve to be better tomorrow.
And that's really the only way I can get past this feeling of entrapment, of being stuck in my mind while the clock moves ever forward. The more I dwell, the more time I lose. The more I reflect on my problems and inadequacies, the less time I have to correct them. It's all about spending the slowly ticking time before the clock stops on you, for whatever reason.
I've been pretending to play with the mind of a god, lately. Occasionally he delves into my wise self and releases kernals of truth that I think I should start paying attention to. After all, what good are those made-up characters if not for a bit of self-analysis from time to time?
I've babbled enough. Time to go.
Time winding on, winding down. My life marching inexorably on with every breath, no matter how slow I let myself move.
I become aware of what it means to actually live in the hours before I sleep. Every night is one more night I won't have to myself. Every night is one where I could die in my sleep, for no reason that medical science could determine... one where I pass off into dream and leave this body behind. And what would I have accomplished in that space, I wonder? If I died then and there, what would I be leaving behind?
Tick, tick. In a bathroom mirror I see myself getting older, not to my prime yet, not even close, but old enough that I can see where I've left myself behind. I worry about those things, even if they feel meaningless... musing on what I cannot change. There aren't many opportunities I've missed, I think, not many that haunt me to this day. I've led my life as honestly as possible, and tried to follow my passion, despite my fear and uncertainty. Is that enough? Is that all one can be?
I look down at my fingers as they effortlessly type away my thoughts, and I reminisce with my eyes closed, thinking of the times I've been angry, or when I've been hurtful or unjust. I think of all the hours I fritter away on useless things, on things I do to distract myself, to get away from the world. And all the while, every heartbeat, every breath, every movement of blood and tissue: Tick, tick, tick, tick.
I used to feel like I was trapped in my body. This heartbeat of mine felt oppressive, the ringing in my ears hauntingly endless. The every breath I took anchoring me to this world. I won't forget how terrifying it was to wake up one morning and be so tired that, even though my mind was awake, my body was still asleep. I had so very little control, even over my breathing, so that I only took the little breaths you take when you are no longer conscious. Eventually I tried to say, with slurred speech, "Help me. Help me." It took a while to get it out, and when I finally shouted it coherently I found myself sitting upwards, staring with wide eyes.
Talking of time, how many more days now? Four and a half weeks until I start a new chapter of my life in university. I got accepted into one of the cluster houses, and now I have to get the paperwork filled out and then I'm committed, back to basics, learning of the art of something I was born to be part of. I don't feel too excited about it, honestly, but perhaps that's because I'm not quite there yet. My mind hasn't caught up with those affairs, and in some ways it rejects excitement for fear of something new.
New subject: My brain has been shuffling things up strangely in my mind. I keep using similar-sounding, but wrong words or turns of phrases, and I mix people's names up more easily than usual. My mind seems more confused since I got to GIFTS, and I'm not sure why that is. Tiredness already? It's strange to me, and a little frightening. I already have wisdom teeth to deal with, do I really need to deal with my mind breaking down and glitching out? Damnit.
At least I can still read clocks. It's late, far too late to be up, and yet there's still things to do, still things to do. The more tired I get, the more I leave things beyond the last minute, so that then I am restless and exhausted but resolute in my purpose. So far, not a good night.
I think maybe I need a break. Maybe I can get Friday evening off, and Saturday can be spent in Victoria. I need to get away, just for a little while.
Oh, whatever. The floor can be mopped tomorrow. I resign myself to imperfection and resolve to be better tomorrow.
And that's really the only way I can get past this feeling of entrapment, of being stuck in my mind while the clock moves ever forward. The more I dwell, the more time I lose. The more I reflect on my problems and inadequacies, the less time I have to correct them. It's all about spending the slowly ticking time before the clock stops on you, for whatever reason.
I've been pretending to play with the mind of a god, lately. Occasionally he delves into my wise self and releases kernals of truth that I think I should start paying attention to. After all, what good are those made-up characters if not for a bit of self-analysis from time to time?
I've babbled enough. Time to go.
wow...
Date: 2010-07-21 03:21 pm (UTC)Re: wow...
Date: 2010-07-21 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-23 09:53 am (UTC)Also the Karma humility points you are building up are immense. Probably worth at least aweek of strutting Karaoke rock star hubris.
Love you,
Dad