At this point I’ve accepted that I’m never going to be truly happy. Is anyone really? We all chase these things, like a dream job, or a nice car, or awesome adventures for those more daring. I’m more of the adventurous type. I would love to travel the world, to see everything it has to offer. Maybe then I’d be happy, content. But what about now? There’s always going to be something more, something I’m missing, I can feel it. Maybe it’s love. Maybe it’s acceptance. Maybe I’ll never find what it is that I’m missing because it’s already gone, something I can never have again.
What if happiness is the biggest lie of them all?
We’re told that we need our smiles, to look through the darkness, or simply ignore it because in a functioning society, we all need to be happy and positive to get along. What about all of that darkness? Why is it there in the first place? Why should we ignore it?
There’s this darkness surrounding me, and I try to shine but it holds me. No one can see it. No one can see my shadow, the one that comes and goes, the one that visited me when my father died. No one hears that voice, the half english, half gibberish language it speaks. No one feels it’s cold, encompassing presence. No one knows why I’m like this. I don’t know why I’m like this, or why this shadow has latched onto me. And I don’t know if it’s good or evil, but it may have been there before my father’s death too. Something’s always been there, protecting me, giving me these dreams and visions. It’s been there to give me strength just as much as it’s given me fear and anxiety. Or maybe there’s two separate entities following me, black and white. I can’t tell the difference.
Whatever the case, whatever it is, I can feel it calling me again.