Posts tagged Miss Havisham
Yearning for those perfect days to part with things, people, possessions or ideas that I no longer want. Every vestige of phantom air vanishes and gives way with a solemn voice to a new vivacity. Forgive yourself, numerous times.
Living in a permanent isolating cell, overwhelmed with our amplified selfish struggles, we could not live day after day if the chance of terminating our life on our own terms would not make us begin things over and over again. Until the moment it doesn’t.
I felt before a strong presentiment that either something was about to happen, or that something was never going to happen again. The sense of premonition was so compelling, so explicit. Luckily, the chances of things actually happening, or not happening, is 50-50. Acting on presentiments alone will most likely destroy you and isolate you.
When we are offered an open door out of our bitter isolation and despair, we stubbornly refuse to go out that way. When we’re sidestepping near to a bottomless abyss that will destroy us, we feel we deserve to jump in. By nature, we always choose wrong first, maybe because we refuse to live an insipid an talentless life?
I’ve shed bitter tears listening to broken words. But I never retreated from that opaque debility. Things do pass in time, the burrowing thoughts turn to dust. There is no insult inflicted in calling someone “happy”.
At certain times, there is an overwhelming sense of tiredness for the life one leads, but since that feeling is considered a combination of superficial luxury and weakness, we stubbornly place it in a black box, lock it tight, and throw away the key. We thrive in its melancholy.
Some people believe that our existence is fulfilled within solitude only, that we need to be in solitude because we are individuals after all. I think those people have an image of what they want to destroy, not of what they want to create. They will eventually toss you out, just don’t resign yourself to the cell they want to put you in. Don’t do that to yourself.
I realize now that I’m the one placing my own snares. Why is it that I catch myself catching myself but can’t stop placing more and more snares? I may be a snare farmer. I exist insofar I catch myself.