Monday, March 19

my irrelevant

Well, here's something. Just when I am all set to close the door on the past or at least a fraction of it, and have in fact rightly done so, here comes an unexpected event that stirs me up again. Not that it can affect me still, but to muse about it now can’t be helped. Suddenly, things come flooding back. Those many nights and days that I walk around wounded, head hanging so low that it could reach the ground, wandering around so blindly and aimlessly that I hardly notice the quizzical look on the faces that approach me. People and friends wonder why I’m so fucked up, while I was too dazed to ignore their raised eyebrows and circumspections. There were probably tattling signs everywhere of me getting scary suicidal, and I could just imagine the hushed tones and furtive looks. Such was my catastrophe . But I chuckle when I think about it now. What if right then, after resolving to finally cross to the brighter side of the street, I do not, in my dejected state, and in a sort of soap opera anticlimax, see an enormous vehicle running towards me at breakneck speed? Like in the movies, I fight through my tears that I could hardly see the rainsoaked road, while a silly goodbye song plays over and over again in my head. In one crucial instant, a blast of light seizes me on my tracks, and I hear the deathly omen of a blaring horn. A second of total confusion, and I am smashed into smithereens. Haze...Heartbeat...Tunnel of light..Flatline..Total darkness... Silence...Void...Totally fucked up thoughts, but I wouldn't be here today boring you to tears, would I? Yeah. Well no, I did cross the road safely, and when I looked back, I sighed. Poor girl, she was cool, but kinda loony.Funny that sometimes we choose to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders and bawl over some person who is not even there, but who is halfway around somewhere, too happy with their life to give a shit about our own wretched existence. And yet, we do bawl.

Now really, if you haven't the faintest idea what I'm rambling about, don't fret. It's because I don't either.
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