Now that no one can hear me, I wonder why my voice is gone.
As the sun rises, I go down.
Like a record spinning in my head, I heard her sing, but this one plays an arrhythmia in my mind, unlike the dissonance in my heart. It seems that the music player has a different rhythm in this dizzy body.
I once heard that missing someone or something is the presence of absence. It made me understand that, although it’s not a palpable thing, it goes inside me, gently touching a fragile area of my being.
After all these years, I still need to lick some wounds to see if I’m still here, because it’s so easy to let yourself slip into a numb mode.
Where I want to go looks like a fancy ticket I can’t buy, although it isn’t about money, but I’m afraid of how long that road will take.
If I could take a bus to nowhere land, I would definitely be sitting comfortably in that vehicle, but once a doctor asked what kind of feelings would that fate make me feel? I said it would erase my existence inside one of those dreams where you want to be trapped forever. She looked at me with her bright eyes and kind face. I smiled.
My phone hasn’t rang this year. Maybe because I suddenly stopped caring a lot about everyone and guess what? Since it’s always you making contact, as soon as you stop pulling the rope, the other side will find other toys in the sandbox. Most of them.
It still hurts not to hear from people I care about, but I’ve learned from some other people that it’s a normal thing these days. Since I’m the “wrong” one, isolation will make me become part of a group that you don’t need an invite to join, just a simple “hey, we should do something soon or go out someday” every now and then.
I’ve been trying to understand why seeing and receiving news from loved ones needs to be done through a small screen when a closer encounter is more accessible than in previous decades.
Isolation again. Overdoses of loneliness covered up by the makeup of social media.
To be anti-social, but always online. This is the way, says Mando.
I miss everyone, but I don’t miss myself. As a joke, everywhere I go, I’m unbelievably there.
There is no “home” in my map app. I have a place to sleep, shower, and eat, but when someone rarely asks me where I can rest and feel safe, it’s always a place where I can be with someone other than myself.
Now that I’ve had to be away from normality, home has been erased from my globe, so everywhere I go can be a haven, but most of the time, no one is there to open the door.
How can we measure the right amount of energy to realize that we’ve tried hard enough? Well, life isn’t short, death is too long.
Now that no one can hear me, I wonder why we need to live like this.
None of what I’ve said here makes sense, although it does mean something to me, I just don’t know how.
I know one thing though.
Sometimes I’m ready to buy that ticket, but the bus seems to avoid my stop.
