I am unsure when everything went so wrong, only that it did. I’m not sure when I lost myself, but it happened. I wish I had the words to explain my mind state at that time, but I don’t. I truly wish I did… The words have yet to be discovered by man, or if they have, I have yet to hear them. I wish I could find a way to convey my thoughts to you because the words seem to diminish their significance and render the once eloquently thought out explination to little more than a cliché and feeble attempt to cover ones own skin. I hate myself for not having the words, and I hate you for not attempting to understand how much I actually meant the words rather than the words themselves. I would never wish the same upon you. It’s a surreal feeling when you view the world as a spectator in your own life. It is a cruel thing to sit in silence simply for lack of words to describe expression and watch as your world contorts and twists into something far worse than a nightmare. I wish I could make you understand, but I can’t. Phrases like “I love you’ and ‘I’m sorry’ are thrown around more and more frequently each and every day. That fact almost guarantees skepticism when the phrases are used in an attempt to make ones intentions and true feelings be known.
It is hell internally to have such overwhelming feelings only to see them diminished into nothing more than a cop-out or a diversion… Perhaps it was simply so mentally exerting to attempt that we have no choice but to utter the now “cliché” phrases and will the opposite side to understand. Silence is very rarely a lack of response but more a resignation of feelings diminished by our linear perspective of life and our inability to comprehend others feelings on a personal level. It is very hard to love what you have never seen outside of a television show or movie, or even a book. Nobody seems to have an answer as to why we care so strongly about these fictional characters and so little about the people in our physical world. It’s as if we have all forgotten that the shows, movies, and books have an ending and the characters within them are nothing more than an idea. We all just sat down one day to our favorite cyber niche and forgot to get up. I wish people throughout the world would open their eyes and take the things others say as they were meant to be perceived rather than assuming that everything said pertains to them and intended harm. The general conglomerations of people have developed a chip on their shoulder that gives them a false sense of entitlement and an ego to match. We constantly feel as if we are being attacked from all angles, even from those we love. That is a true demonstration of compassion and love right? Trust? The concept has become foreign to us all. Somewhere along the road we bought into how terrifying the “big bad world” can be and we have lost sight of how far we have come. Not only do we forget how far we have come but all the things that define us as ourselves, how can we ever hope to achieve peace and happiness in the company of others if we don’t even know what it is that sets us apart from the masses of sheeple who have lost their way and will likely never find it again.
My mind is a labyrinth lately, a solitary cell with no windows or doors. The thing that confuses me is that I feel as if I’m safe here, I feel like it is the only place of peace within the chaos of the everyday world. Popular consensus states that I have been withdrawn, secluded, checked-out, and hollow. Yes, I am all of these things. I will not deny that. I have fallen leagues where social interaction is concerned, and my only justification for doing so is that here lately nothing makes sense to me at all. Not the people and their half-hearted attempts at humoring whatever it is that you are saying so that they can return to their infinitesimally more meaningful lives. Everyone spends all their time and effort trying to maintain a social life from their cell phones and never venture out of the confines of their own homes. This wouldn’t bother me at all except the same people will then seemingly in the same sentence vent about how lonely they are and about the lack of friendly faces in their lives. We are all schizophrenic to some degree. In the world today it is impossible not to be unless you have zero access to the Internet and have managed to evade the onslaught of imbeciles dressed as geniuses overthrow the planet with a tool that can never be turned off. How long do you think you would be able to go without your phone or computer? Can you even uphold an intelligent conversation anymore without checking your phone like it is spontaneously going to do something it’s never done before? I would bet a very large sum of money that (locked in my head or not) I understand more in one verbal conversation than most people learn in the first few weeks of knowing someone and I don’t need a Facebook to learn. Long gone are the days of eloquent speech and care for others. I guess what I am getting around to saying is “maybe it is not I who have been off in some elaborate daydream and forgotten to wake up. Technology has shown you that it is easier to enjoy the temporary happiness via watching and reading about other peoples problems than to actually surface and deal with your own crumbling life. I am in my cell because I want to be, who put you in yours?
Where did the beauty and wonder flee to and when did it depart? I feel like if I can just make it back to the exact moment when I changed then I might be able to fix it. To be perfectly honest I have no idea why I withdrew, and it was not intentional at all but if I don’t even know what it is that I am fighting then how am I supposed to instinctually snap back to whatever version of myself would suit the masses with the most gravity currently. I feel like atlas, harnessed to a set of beliefs that reflect a time that was buried decades before I was a thought. An “old soul.” That’s what the people far wiser than I have deemed a fit title for people who still hold on to the base principles of what it means to be a gentleman rather than what we call “Men” today. To the world, I may never be anyone of great note or importance, but I can assure you that whether my mind be a million miles away in the not so distant past or in the present moment absorbing the knowledge at hand; my thoughts are my own. Peers and social media did not plant my ideas in my head. They were calculated to precision deep in the recesses of my mind where I’ve been residing lately.
I am twenty-one years old. I don’t know who I am anymore. I did once, but that was a long time ago. The world has moved on, leaving in its wake the people like me. We are the privileged/cursed few who are filled with a profound and almost overwhelming sense of compassion and love for mankind. People who have ceased to believe that there are still those of us who care in the world. People who have forgotten that life is a truly beautiful experience and it is full of grace all the way down to a molecular level. I am a mortician. I am a madman in costume as a sane person, or at least that’s how I feel most of the time. Everybody has always told me that I needed to be more open and voice my thoughts as well as concerns. They say that it isn’t healthy to bottle things up inside, and they’re probably right, but how am I to expect closure if the issues I voice have yet to be thought of by the recipient at all. It is similar to trying to explain a vibrant color to a blind person. They nod their heads as if comprehension was within their grasp all along. If you watch closely enough though you can watch as their eyes glaze over and their mind departs to a place far away. I’m coming to the realization that there are very few people left who will actually hear what I have to say and analyze it enough to understand what it was that I was trying to say at all. If you had seen the things that I’ve seen, done the things I have done, or experienced pain as I have, you may very well understand why I do the things I do. The only problem is that most of you will soon discover that those shoes don’t fit. I realize that people generally don’t understand my reasoning behind the things I do, and I have no possible way of rationalizing why I do them because very few other people have the capability to look at the world from my perspective. The million-dollar question though is: Where are those select few who can, and why do they persistently suffer in silence? Why do extraordinary people sit idly by and watch as the world slips further and further into the black hole that is society.
I cannot speak for the rest of you, but I feel as if I am shackled to the memory of a better time. As if by remaining there I can find a way to set myself free, and by doing so give others the courage to face their fears alone. The old timers say that history always repeats itself and if that be so then maybe I wont seem so misplaced when everything comes back around again. It is immeasurably frustrating to feel like I am the one out of place simply because I think about the things that other people do not. It is exhausting being an outcast simply because my mind wanders to the places that others are afraid to go the furthest recesses of our minds where our deepest emotions, thoughts, and fears lay dormant. The answers that are found there are very rarely happy ones, but then again most ghosts are not. I will never understand why people are so terrified and opposed of knowledge. Technology was supposed to democratize us and set us free, but all it’s really done for us is allow us to watch as our country crumble along with the rest of the world and gives us 24 hour a day access to kiddie porn. People never write anymore and when they do complete thoughts are scarce, just a mass of acronyms with no punctuation and no emotion behind them at all. It seems to me that it is just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people in a prehistoric style language that resembles more of what cavemen spoke than the King’s English. I guess that’s why they say that ignorance is bliss.
It is hard to care about how far people have fallen if the individual cared very little about who they are as a person to the rest of the world. In a society that relies so heavily on everybody else’s approval it has become hard for me to understand how the “I don’t give a damn about anything” mindset can seem rational even to people as blind as we. That steps beyond the realm of ignorance and into actual stupidity. It doesn’t take much to step outside of the loop, but it’s more than most are willing to do. What does that say about them as people? Are they worth trying to save at all? After you spend so long fighting a losing battle the only logical course of action is to stop fighting. No worries though, they don’t care one way or the other, right? False, I think that the issue is much more often due to internal battles than external. I cannot possibly find the words to explain exactly how much I care about the people I have come to look at as family, and it unexplainably frustrating to have such excruciatingly immense feelings only to find that by uttering them aloud somehow diminishes their gravity. I realize that I am leagues away from being the person that I need to be and I am sorry for the distance that the pursuit of that person has put between myself and the people I love. I just hope that at the end of the day, when all the dust clears they believe that it will be I standing behind them to catch them if they fall and if need be give them the confidence, fortitude, and strength to face their demons alone. I am sorry if I am not the person you want me to be, but just know that I have never given you any less than all I could. I hope that you all find the answers you are looking for. I hope that you do not think me a lesser person because of the things I have said. I hope I have made you laugh and smile. I hope that my voice and words echo through your life in a positive way and that you know that you are not alone. I hope that I have helped you in some way find some clarity. But most of all, I hope you find peace.
To all the people who feel out of place in the world because you have the audacity to voice the questions that others are afraid to ask. To all the people who feel alone even while surrounded by others. To all the outcasts and “freaks.” To all the people who have seen the world, not as individuals of a specific country but rather a human on this magnificent planet we have the privilege of inhabiting. To all the people like me. Do not let the why’s of the world crush the light that makes you different from the norm. Guide, guard, direct, and protect the ones you love at all costs and be kind to everyone. Without pain there would be no compassion, but remember that suffering is very much optional. Liberate yourself from who the world dictates you should be and by doing so you will give others the constitution to find their way back to peace. I’ll always be here if ever you should need me, in some way or the other. Don’t forget to smile, you deserve to whether you feel like it or not. Don’t forget why the people in your life mean so much to you and what they did to get there. Don’t forget the little things. Don’t forget to live. after all we are all architects of fate. Cheers, it is, has been, and will continue to be a pleasure.
With all the sincerity possible, Weston.