On one of my vacations I forgot my Seroquel. It's an anti-psychotic. I'm not quite psychotic, but I needed it for the day to end properly. At least that's what my doctor thought. My dad was quite perturbed that I did not manage to remember my medication. This shouldn't have been surprising to him though, I always managed to mess things up. If things could go wrong for me, they would go wrong for me. To make matters worse, it was usually my fault.
I was feeling extremely terrible, that feeling that I get so often. It always consumes me, this tiredness, this deep exhaustion... as if I am a volcano that has erupted and I am just the remnants. I feel like a constellation of a man's face, and as he breathes out millions of galaxies get blown into the universe. I picture the man with twinkling eyes, and his eyes are the biggest stars that exist. His mouth is made of red super clusters. His soul is made of millions of stars mixed with stardust. They come all over the galaxy, galaxies, the whole universe. Except it's just me, and it's happening inside of my body.
All these galaxies inside of me, I just want to lie down and let my soul walk out of my body in a different physical form. Just for a few moments so I can take apart my whole body cell by cell then atom by atom and return it to it's home. Where would I go? My ethereal form would take my lifeless body and spread it across time and space, freeing me. This is sometimes why I prefer the idea of nothing after death, existing is a burden for me so often. I feel it right now, I feel the weight of the day eating away at my heart. And what will I do with that? What good will I bring?
But I will wake up again and try again and again and again until the end of my life.
So in the hotel I turned on my side and just focused, "It's only chemicals, change chemicals! Change!" I told myself it was only chemicals in my brain making me feel this way, so I focused on something cliche. I focused on the edge of a beach. And I felt better, and slept.
Maybe that's what life is, maybe it's the separation of each particle that makes us exist over the span of billions and billions of years until we become nothing. We'll never find out, but we can speculate now that there was no meaning to anything. That all of it was ultimately for nothing, and that is actually the best news that we could have ever hoped for.
I was feeling extremely terrible, that feeling that I get so often. It always consumes me, this tiredness, this deep exhaustion... as if I am a volcano that has erupted and I am just the remnants. I feel like a constellation of a man's face, and as he breathes out millions of galaxies get blown into the universe. I picture the man with twinkling eyes, and his eyes are the biggest stars that exist. His mouth is made of red super clusters. His soul is made of millions of stars mixed with stardust. They come all over the galaxy, galaxies, the whole universe. Except it's just me, and it's happening inside of my body.
All these galaxies inside of me, I just want to lie down and let my soul walk out of my body in a different physical form. Just for a few moments so I can take apart my whole body cell by cell then atom by atom and return it to it's home. Where would I go? My ethereal form would take my lifeless body and spread it across time and space, freeing me. This is sometimes why I prefer the idea of nothing after death, existing is a burden for me so often. I feel it right now, I feel the weight of the day eating away at my heart. And what will I do with that? What good will I bring?
But I will wake up again and try again and again and again until the end of my life.
So in the hotel I turned on my side and just focused, "It's only chemicals, change chemicals! Change!" I told myself it was only chemicals in my brain making me feel this way, so I focused on something cliche. I focused on the edge of a beach. And I felt better, and slept.
Maybe that's what life is, maybe it's the separation of each particle that makes us exist over the span of billions and billions of years until we become nothing. We'll never find out, but we can speculate now that there was no meaning to anything. That all of it was ultimately for nothing, and that is actually the best news that we could have ever hoped for.
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