Discomfort is reality, reality is boundless

I miss my friends sometimes. I hear of people hanging out with their own friends and it reminds me of my own friends, the friends I left, the friends I never truly had, the friends that were never really mine. The friends who really weren't even friends in the end. I guess thats why I left, I didn't know how to be the friend they wanted me to be. They weren't the friends I thought they were, and I guess its my fault for thinking of them in any particular way to begin with. Who am I to tell them who they are or have to be for me, thats why I left, because I prefer that they be themselves rather than someone else. I felt because it was the only thing I could do being their friends. It was the last best thing I could do for them. Sometimes you just have to let go of people you love. Sometimes its the only thing you can do. I don't know if I could have done things differently, I don't know if given my situation I could have done anything at all differently. I feel cursed. Like a pirate, cursed for life. Like I'm living a nightmare and I can't wake up, like I'm sleepwalking through my life, and nothing can snap me out of it, like I'm helpless. Like everything that happens in my life is out of my control. Like I have no control. Like my life is a large hole of void emptiness, that lacks any real substance. Like numbness is my state of being, like a sense of existance, is the biggest challenge to realize. And imagine not even having a sense of existance, like you're a souless lifeless void of space, just existing, never really living. Its more than reality, more than sanity, its clarity.

That void, that space of nothingness, that feeling of numbness, and that struggle to find a sense of self, that is real. That is the only thing that's real. Nothing else. Imagine if this were life. Would you live it? You wouldn't have a choice, living it you find the real joys of life. Its amazing to a real extent. You value the little things. There is no other way to describe it.

In all of this what I miss the most is my mind. Living is the only cure for life. I'm so tempted to make this blog private, because a part of me feels embarassed for being so convoluted, I feel responsible for putting mess out there, for leaving this as an open source for someone else's mind to get corrupted in. Its sort of dark, and deep, and uncomfortable, and not at all a happy frolic in the meadows, but a huge aspect of living, is accepting yourself, for all the nooks and crannies of your darkness, lightness, and all the inbetweens. So where better to start than this uncomfortable feeling I'm feeling right now. I'll live with it.