Just another simple day.

Bright mourning.

Who am I? I asked myself many, many times. I am to be them? I asked myself many, many times. Since then, I've been fighting this. I've been fighting the urge to kick the bucket. To give in and be on you them. Those soulless humanoid things... With those empty eyes. I kept fighting it, always will. Otherwise I might be just another hypocrite, another soul this place took. With its dreams smashed, with its ideas shame and mocked by the world. I want something else. Always did. But you can't just do that. You can't avoid it. They won't let you. Whatever it is, you won't be able to do it. And by the end of the day, you are what you got scared of in the first place. At least that's how I see it. That's how I see myself in the mirror lately. Selfish, soulless, hypocritical more times than not. And this is my excuse. I can't just escape it, since they won't let me. Since I can't do it, I blame all you. Is what I would say, if I weren't alone, in this room.

Which is weird, I feel a bit schizophrenic. I've been talking to myself for years. But now I mask it, it's under all this writing I am doing. All these thoughts that I can't put out there and tell people about them. About all this turmoil that I've turned into small stories. But this is my tool, my way of fighting the thing I am afraid of. I can't say that I don't love it. Then again, going back to the schizophrenic episode, it's a lot like talking to yourself and those voices in your head. Because no one will answer my writing or to my thoughts, other than myself. Well, whatever... I don't have to convince myself of the things I already believe in. On the other hand, is good to have a debate with someone, just in case I missed something. Maybe that's how I keep my fire intact for the moment. If this isn't an allusion to masturbation, I don't know what is.

It's weird, not that I complain. I said again to myself, lonely as I sit in a chair. Thinking that all this might be just a coping mechanism. Something to get me through the day. Some lie I've been telling myself all these years trying to survive. Not that I had something to fight against or a reason to fight for something, I spoke again. For some reason, I can't keep my mouth shut, not when I'm alone. Now then, not that this is something wrong, as long as I can control it. Were my thoughts at that moment. And I wasn't wrong, because people don't care unless you take that filter off, put your mask under the strike of your boot and just open your mouth. Not that I encourage everyone to do this, and I never would. Since many do it on social media, and oh boy... Well... See, I thought to myself. I am a hypocrite, I exclaim as I publish this blog post. Then again, it's just another simple day.

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Just a simple day

Waking up with the sun in your eyes, blurred in the reality, finding something to eat while watching television. Having a coffee while smoking a cigarette. As the smoke vanishes into thin air, you start your new day.

Taking a shower after you wake up. The steam of the hot water that hits your face is trying to clear your vision. Yet when you wipe your face the only thing remaining is a clean sense of dread. Now, on your way to work. Looking in the eyes of strangers, your thought run away to a weird place and you get to ask yourself "Will I become what I just saw? Someone with that kind of agony in their eyes?"As everything looks the same, the thought that you already are one of them, starts to get stronger and stronger into your brain. A solution seems to fade away with the question itself, as you work through the day. Finding yourself home at the personal computer, doing your routine, the question pops up again in your brain. You go out for a drink, looking at the people around you, it starts to click as you find yourself in everyone around you.

As the path remains, you try to make something new in the start of a new day, but a pattern shows in the bright of that early morning. And as you try to change everything, you lose yourself. With every step you make, the less you know about who you are, losing even the past. Everything around you crashes and turns into dust. As alone in the middle of the night, you stare at the screen. Becoming more and more ignorant of the reality that stands right before your eyes. Empty as the night's sky in the middle of a big town, you wander around with the agony of death written in the depth of your eyes, smiling to fit in the environment around you. So, the only fear that you had has embraced you, and with that you became what you didn't want.

But as with every story and every truth, there must be a spark, a change. As the sun sets down in your eyes and the darkness sets place in your heart. Finding something that you liked or you loved is hard. The smile from your face faded away long time ago, the smile you had, and the laughter you lost, they couldn't be found. As you smile or laugh, and see or hear yourself. You start to ask "Where and when did I become something like this?"Finding an old video cassette of you as a child, hearing that innocent and clear laughter, seeing the smile you once had. Tears start to roll down your face, regretting what you had and lost because of the road that you had to take. The rough life that everyone seems to know, but no one went through. Watching the tape, you hear that one song that was in your consciousness for a second, you regain that smile and your laugh. But as the song goes on you lose them, you lose yourself. But like everyone you must sleep at night, and you do too.

The night passes, fighting your way through sleep, as the sun shines in the sky. In this morning you jump from the bed and it doesn't even matter why or how. But you found the energy to make a change. The only thing that made him this way, was a dream. A dream where he found that one person, where he made it to his star, made something different with his life. As the day went on, he remembered that it doesn't matter how people are. You do not have to compare yourself to them and the only change he had to make is to dream. As the dreams fueled him, he made his way to the place he always wanted.

Through life you learn one thing, that the dreams you have, even the unimportant ones, will keep you different... alive, creative. As dead as he could be on the inside, without any dreams, as alive he became... As he started dreaming again, even without that smile, laughter, or innocent look in his eyes. He was never so alive as he is now.

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 Originally published on the 28th of September 2012.