Am I upset because I'm lost? The borders that once stood between me and the horizon I could never see have expanded, as I sit, unwilling to move, only in wait of the their fall. Even if I've come to realise that they will only move further and further away out of sight, I can't seem to accept a bottled-up existence with infinite-finite possibilities. Breathing is still heavy, even when a room is no longer a room, and the ceiling has opened up to reveal an open sky.
Is this what freedom feels like? Being confronted with endless decisions, that in the end results in a day spent enclosed in a perfect cube, where even the sun is declined its routine greeting.
Due to a grave error in my flawed comprehension, I've begun to associate freedom with solitude, and solitude with independence. As a connector between both freedom and independence, solitude has become rather essential to the stability of my being. Once it is replaced by companionship, I start to break down.
Not to misunderstand what I've just said, I'd like to clarify that it is not that I don't NEED companionship, just that it shouldn't come to replace solitude. It gets lonely in life, and we all need a functioning support system of live human beings in the form of family and friends in order to stall the inevitable suicide of a mentally weak strawberry. Shallow connections which involve lunch dates and day-time gossip are plenty, enough to satisfy the daily requirements of companionship.
Is there a yearning for something deeper? But we all shouldn't just give in to our base requests.
Since when have I become even more shut off and harder to approach? We know. Don't you? In many ways it is indeed true that I have changed, but one fact remains the same: under my skin, anger is my flesh and hate is the substance that makes up my bones. It's sad, but don't pity one incapable of love.
Perhaps gratification is all I'm after in a world of superficial connections where you and I are both commodities and nothing more.