Looking up for directions
There are times when you sit on your own and you just feel isolated. You picture what the outside world looks like. It hasn't been that long since you last went out, but because you haven't been out regularly or have had that habitual contact with the same people, everything becomes a blur and does not count.
I never thought it would happen to me, but I've reached a point where everything is repetitive. It's scary when you finally understand just what American Psycho (the BOOK) was all about. The repetition, the people, the faces, the rituals... everything becomes routine. You try to break away and yet the thing you do to take a break become the same thing. I used to think walking from Wardour Street to Liverpool Street station was a nice break, listening to the music on my iPod, possibly snapping a few pictures on my camera. But things have become the same. It's scary how you realise that your life has a routine that you thought you were once happy with, but now become lifeless in.
I sit here going through my mobile, looking through the numbers, and with each name I come across there is an excuse not to phone them. They'll be too busy. They will wonder what I want. They'll be asleep at this time of the night. They won't be in the country. Then you realise that you don't want conversation, but just to listen to someone else's voice, because you're tired of hearing your own. It is your voice inside your head and you just want to open it up to someone else, listen to another person. The one or two people you try to reach out to are not available, and that's when it hits you... just how alone you really are.
I am still not sure how to take that. I.am.alone. I'm not sure if that is a bad or a good thing. Is it bad that I don't feel particularly affected by it? Is it good that I feel indifferent to it? Should I be depressed that I'm this apathetic to it all? Should I end it all? Jump off a building and see what happens? Whether I'll hit the ground or fly?
"God gave me style and grace,
"God put a smile upon my face."
I don't know what my goal is in life anymore. I lack true inspiration and I wonder if it has dried up. When I was fighting for my dreams I needed release and wrote. Now, I sit here and wonder, just what happens next? Will I ever snap out of it? Or am I just going to drift along?
I'm not looking for someone to save me, I'm looking for...
I never thought it would happen to me, but I've reached a point where everything is repetitive. It's scary when you finally understand just what American Psycho (the BOOK) was all about. The repetition, the people, the faces, the rituals... everything becomes routine. You try to break away and yet the thing you do to take a break become the same thing. I used to think walking from Wardour Street to Liverpool Street station was a nice break, listening to the music on my iPod, possibly snapping a few pictures on my camera. But things have become the same. It's scary how you realise that your life has a routine that you thought you were once happy with, but now become lifeless in.
I sit here going through my mobile, looking through the numbers, and with each name I come across there is an excuse not to phone them. They'll be too busy. They will wonder what I want. They'll be asleep at this time of the night. They won't be in the country. Then you realise that you don't want conversation, but just to listen to someone else's voice, because you're tired of hearing your own. It is your voice inside your head and you just want to open it up to someone else, listen to another person. The one or two people you try to reach out to are not available, and that's when it hits you... just how alone you really are.
I am still not sure how to take that. I.am.alone. I'm not sure if that is a bad or a good thing. Is it bad that I don't feel particularly affected by it? Is it good that I feel indifferent to it? Should I be depressed that I'm this apathetic to it all? Should I end it all? Jump off a building and see what happens? Whether I'll hit the ground or fly?
"God gave me style and grace,
"God put a smile upon my face."
I don't know what my goal is in life anymore. I lack true inspiration and I wonder if it has dried up. When I was fighting for my dreams I needed release and wrote. Now, I sit here and wonder, just what happens next? Will I ever snap out of it? Or am I just going to drift along?
I'm not looking for someone to save me, I'm looking for...
Labels: alone, disoriented, isolation, lost, routine
posted by Lunar Chick @ 11:27 pm
1 Comments:
At 11:38 am,
Anonymous said…
Being alone is always a state of mind. The more you are aware of yourself, the more that you are consigned to being alone. Your identity, your viewpoint, your position makes you alone. Maslow may lead to some uncomfortable positions, but if you treat his self actualisation pyramid as an observation rather than an aim, it works. The nearer the top you get, the further you are from your neighbour. And it's a long way down.
So, looking up? If you want to. I was theologically trained, I no longer would even consider myself even agnostic in the accepted sense. But, I can never get away from those thought patterns that shape me. One, in particular, often comes to mind. When considering the idea, if we are born to sin, would it be better not to be born? one answer is "Yes, it would have been better not to have been born, but now that we are here it is better to have been born" Far from being a cop out it is a profound comment on the power of choice and our travel along time's arrow.
So I can answer your questions. What will happen next? Be grateful you don't know, imagine how boring it would be. Will I ever snap out of it? Yes, but you knew that really. Am I just going to drift along? No, not unless you do start looking for others to pull you out. Sounds to me like as if you won't.
Best wishes.
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