When one is finally alone, one is whole. It is hard to believe. I still yearn for the need to have contact. Hoping, needing, loving, pretending, helping, arguing, wanting, hating, attaching, escaping, laughing, crying… I feel alone. All of these emotions, situations and actions are a farse. The attachment is so great to be accepted, appreciated, understood, loved, cared, and listened to. Sometimes too great. Sacrifices of my own individuality are made as a bet. A bet that there will be a better deal tomorrow. The only thing is that the bet is with myself. For years and years I put forth many bets. Now I think that it was an empty attempt. People still move on to their own ideas, thoughts and actions. Their lives evolve, transcend into something greater. When Gosha fell flat on his face, he got up and did what no one thought he would, he went with his own intuitions. It is something that I only begin to understand. So many years have passed. How many more are needed in order to understand the next point in life? How many years are needed to fix what was broken and start something that has not been acknowledged for so many years?
The only thing that I know for sure is that it is with my own self that I pick a battle. The others never really exist. One fact remains: “I think therefore I exist.”
So many games we play, and for what? I feel that the more we play, the more we dilute the reality of what everything is. I am exhausted. So exhausted. I thought I could put up with everything for a long time. But now I want to rest. To sleep a silent sleep. No more thoughts and assumptions. No more judgements. No more worrying. No more pretending. No more _________ No more___________No more___________I say.
Sleep, so sweet, so lovely, so true, so pure awaits me as I become one, only me, myself, alone.