SACRIFICE
The last time I was awake, I guess it was December of 2018. I remember extending my break and staying out for a little while more just to gaze the stars. I remember wondering, what it would feel like to get on my knees just to thank someone. I wondered will I even get a chance to thank someone like that? Is there going to be someone whose favour will exceed my gratitude?
And then I remembered someone. I'm not going to name him. He's an artist. He had depression once during his journey on this floating stone. Well, I never knew him personally. But he inspired me: As an artist; as an human. I want to focus on the fact that according to me, he's one of the greatest artist in the universe: And he once, in front of a crowd of 80,000 people; got on his knees, his forehead touching the stage floor and water and other lacrimal fluid flowing through his eyes; Thanked someone. He couldn't get up for 5 minutes.
The only thing that was echoing in my mind after this was a word: SACRIFICE.
I remember getting this huge adrenaline rush and going back to my desk to study again in a millisecond. I was studying chemistry for straight four days while playing with imaginary chemicals in my head. I wanted that. I wanted that sacrifice in my life. Suddenly, I had a want to tell a sad story with a happy face. Suddenly, 5 month old hurt wasn't bothering me anymore. I wanted my fingers to bleed back then. I didn't cared if my soul had already been wrecked or broken. I discovered a new form hurt. And that felt like my becoming.
Of Course, I couldn't keep up with my aliveness.
Somewhere along the way, I went astray again.
It's April of 2020 today. Why am I writing this today? Do I feel alive again today? No. I'm not even close to feeling the amount of aliveness my 10 year old used to feel. No fear. No eyes spying behind my back.
I sit in this dark room. I purposely turn off the lights and stare at these blank screens and shitty movies that doesn't bring justice to my conscious or emotions. My thoughts are restricted to these: what's there to eat? What time is it? Is that question important for the exam? How much syllabus is left? Why can't I sleep?
My life is the clumsiest, most suffocated four walled space you ever want to be in. When they ask how my day was, I just want to scream on top of lungs while saying some gibberish. Hey reader, I get it okay? I need a time out: maybe fall in love or go out travelling. But you can't see what's at stake here. I am at stake. If I seal one wound, another one is going to pop open right away. I don't have time for time out.
I have already made a sacrifice. I have already lost what I bet for once. You want to know what happened then? I cried everyday of my life for at least 3 months. Honestly, everyday is an exaggeration but every week would have been an understatement. I didn't purposely fell on the ground. I thought my parachute would open: but it didn't. (I am far better than good now, in this context)
So now what? I am alive. But I don't feel it. Should I go hunting for another sacrifice? Or should I change the course of my thoughts now?
And then I remembered someone. I'm not going to name him. He's an artist. He had depression once during his journey on this floating stone. Well, I never knew him personally. But he inspired me: As an artist; as an human. I want to focus on the fact that according to me, he's one of the greatest artist in the universe: And he once, in front of a crowd of 80,000 people; got on his knees, his forehead touching the stage floor and water and other lacrimal fluid flowing through his eyes; Thanked someone. He couldn't get up for 5 minutes.
The only thing that was echoing in my mind after this was a word: SACRIFICE.
I remember getting this huge adrenaline rush and going back to my desk to study again in a millisecond. I was studying chemistry for straight four days while playing with imaginary chemicals in my head. I wanted that. I wanted that sacrifice in my life. Suddenly, I had a want to tell a sad story with a happy face. Suddenly, 5 month old hurt wasn't bothering me anymore. I wanted my fingers to bleed back then. I didn't cared if my soul had already been wrecked or broken. I discovered a new form hurt. And that felt like my becoming.
Of Course, I couldn't keep up with my aliveness.
Somewhere along the way, I went astray again.
It's April of 2020 today. Why am I writing this today? Do I feel alive again today? No. I'm not even close to feeling the amount of aliveness my 10 year old used to feel. No fear. No eyes spying behind my back.
I sit in this dark room. I purposely turn off the lights and stare at these blank screens and shitty movies that doesn't bring justice to my conscious or emotions. My thoughts are restricted to these: what's there to eat? What time is it? Is that question important for the exam? How much syllabus is left? Why can't I sleep?
My life is the clumsiest, most suffocated four walled space you ever want to be in. When they ask how my day was, I just want to scream on top of lungs while saying some gibberish. Hey reader, I get it okay? I need a time out: maybe fall in love or go out travelling. But you can't see what's at stake here. I am at stake. If I seal one wound, another one is going to pop open right away. I don't have time for time out.
I have already made a sacrifice. I have already lost what I bet for once. You want to know what happened then? I cried everyday of my life for at least 3 months. Honestly, everyday is an exaggeration but every week would have been an understatement. I didn't purposely fell on the ground. I thought my parachute would open: but it didn't. (I am far better than good now, in this context)
So now what? I am alive. But I don't feel it. Should I go hunting for another sacrifice? Or should I change the course of my thoughts now?
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