This uselessness... burdening.
No matter how much I think I was nurtured and sheltered, I'm ultimately still alone.
Only I know what's in the deepest of my mind. Only I know the secret buried underneath the darkest corner. Only I know how it feels to be weighted by my own thoughts and expectations. Only I know the bad things I feel and think of the mostly normal people, out of jealousy and false pretenses. Only I know what I dreamed about last night and how to put it into words.
Yet I still expect people to understand me and point me at the right direction, without even giving them a clue of where I'm trying to head to.
When will I realize my actions are my responsibility, and only mine?
When will I realize that I'm the only one qualified to steer this car?
When will I realize that I'm the captain of my ship, master of my fate?
What do captains do? They decide where to go, guide their underlings and ensure the correct way to go. Captains don't abandon their ship. Captains launch cannonballs at people who laugh at them, because who the fuck are they to think they could steer my ship?
I wish I could be that captain.
Right now instead of fixing the hole in the starboard, I'm writing my travel log.
I left a trace for historians to find me, but I lost sight of what I wanted to be remembered as.
Our vessel is stuck in this hurricane somewhere in the Pacific ocean. Wreck is almost inevitable. I drew another stroke with my quill pen. This is perhaps where we end our journey.
"Well captain, it's romantic and all, you might think," I could hear my crews complaining, "But we're mere workers and our instinct is not to die. Perhaps you could, you know, give us command to fix things around here and we just might survive."
How many people have I dragged down to the bottom of the ocean?
My brain might have convinced me to take the escape route, but my body resists. Just like the captain and their underlings (how dare they). And that indecisiveness has costed a lot of things from everyone. Me, my family, my friends, or strangers that happened to bump shoulders with me on the street. The intangibility of the most precious resources, strayed me away from sight of them.
Attention. Love. Affection.
Just a little human touch. A hug. A grab on the pulse. A feeling of bodily warmth.
Maybe that's all we need, to not be completely miserable.
After all, we are merely a really smart animal, and our primitive brain needs what it had always needed.
its sad reading your words lately. perhaps this the price for being a intellect person. it is what it is, not much we can do about it. any help that i can do for you? anything. iam so concern about you
ReplyDeletethank you, putin. i suppose it's helpful enough to know that the president of russia took his time to read my silly blog lol.
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