Summary: I feel bad because *this* would bring about hope in my life.
And funny, the reason why I’m feeling this way is because this might be something for me to hang on in life. Something that I’ll continue to live on for.
Which leads to: If I handled it well, I’m ecstatic for the rest of my day, I would be actually (the sacred word) happy. If I didn’t (which is me right now), I’ll be feeling all depressed. But this hasn’t been inducted into the halls of my life so I could only settle for feeling weird and half-persuading myself to get out of it emotionally.
I would rather not get high and crash. I wish (should I say it), that it has never actually happened so I do not need to handle it. Now I’m in a terrible dilemma. Terrible, terrible, terrible.
Or rather, secretly I’m wishing that it will be high all the time. Or are the highs worth some lows? My life sucks. As do everyone else’s. In this biosphere. Roundabout game. I don’t understand why I’d needed to go through all these.
And true, this is worth living for. Really. But it will crash again, I’ve seen it once and I told myself never again. And then it comes again and sigh.
So it seems like I’ve given up all hope and here’s this tiny stream of light seeping through the thin crevices of the sealed-up cave and I’m in a love-hate relationship with it. Why do I hate hope? Because I want to be able to pack up and leave whenever I want with no one holding me back?
And I remember Fight Club: And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.
And yeah, true. I hadn’t been bounded by anything for a considerable time before this. But sometimes, I’m happily bounded, sometimes, I’m not. Why do people seek to be bounded? Marriages, relationships, commitments that you can’t shy away from.
And why do I want to attend to that stream of light? Because its human nature. And I’m still a human no matter how much I’m not already to date. Will I ever get myself out of that? I don’t think I want to. This one’s different. This one’s so different. I don’t know how to make out of it.
(Chats and laughs maniacally with YH on my newly made up acronym STEOOOL- sending the earth out of orbit laughing. And somehow I lost my train of thoughts and therefore the mood.)
Then I suppose I’d better not think about it too much. Thinking about it doesn’t change it.