Been wondering a while now ( as usual!)about the fact that I have nothing new to say.
Life has reached a point of stagnation and the mundane is the only thing that keeps me occupied, any trysts with something new or unusual have me shying away and shutting that door even before it totally opens.
3 years of doing absolutely nothing seems to be taking its toll on me, deadening my senses, misdirecting my reflexes and muddling my priorities.
This blanket of numbness covering my thoughts, is it about the people who have grown beyond needing me or is it me growing beyond caring about it?
Or is it the absence of action in general?
Or is it the lack of new questions?
The earlier ones haven't been totally answered but having them around for company takes the edge of the quest and therefore doesn't really cause any itching.
No friction, no movement and no desire?
Am I mourning something that I am not aware of or is it that I am celebrating the way of the mediocre?
Whatever this is, it honestly doesn't seem to make a difference anyway.
Putting myself out there and in perspective doesn't make for a very flattering sight, and one I am not inclined to forget either.
But the fog envelops me and pushes me further forcing me to just join its flow, become as nameless and shapeless as itself and I without much ado just give in.
And whilst this goes on the questions take a back seat and if they exist the newer ones have no entry to get in, and with nothing around me I am tied and strangled, painlessly with no noise.
The state of non-existence is thereby achieved and isn't as bad as its made out to be.
But how long before I jerk out of this is a question wriggling out of the depths making its way to the shore but not fully reaching it.
When it finally comes afore it will probably set me free, I guess.
Do I care or will I then, only that time will tell..
1 comment:
Waiting for the telling time.
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