Despair

An attempt at providing the emotion within me a place to go.

The refinement of a writer’s words, which are twisted into the precise message of the said narrator, serves as a soothing anecdote for the wandering mind. It allows for the hollow spaces to be filled with the emotions of the unspeakable; creates an image that evokes such vivid ponderings – this is the observant reiterations of the author; the writer of the unspeakable wordless visions that the majority of humanity wish to not pen.

***

The small foothills of the impending mountains rose up within the darkness; their crests enveloping the air. Within the crevices of these inviting hills lurks the fear of an almost inevitable emotion. The fear one has for the unknown, the fear one has of the future and the flipside of these emotions also arise. But the commentary upon this sublime picturesque vision is not of the awe and wonderment of the landscape, but rather of the human mind and the gears that churn within.

The observant person will catch glimpses of the world throughout their life, and they will spin their perspectives and imagine their thoughts as correct. But as the observant wanderer realizes that even though they’re alone on their meandering path of thought, they are content. One is born in love, but also born an individual, and one is brought up with the freedom of individualism. But when you have found the term of “love,” you are no longer alone in your thought process, you share – and this (as humans being social creatures) brings about mere happiness. Although, the individual as emphasized as it is, is soon forgotten. We are reminded of its presence within the small things that citizens get to do with their daily lives, but we tend to share the majority of our life with our significant others.

This is quite a good thing.
It is also an unfortunate problem.

When the constraint of sharing becomes too much, one wants to walk away, but since (as human beings) we have been raised (or rather hardwired) with morals, one cannot just simply get up and leave the confusion without coming away with responsibility.

What strikes me as absolutely fascinating is the fact that there are those out there who can walk away and hide their guilt (for they must feel some sort of guilt...), and they erase their responsibilities as if they are an individual again – no longer sharing with their “other”.

This has become quite a thoughtful path that I often walk down (within my mind) and I try to reassure myself of the possible motives behind someone doing this. The only innate reason I can come forth with is the fact that (they as a human being) cannot any longer deal with the emotional responsibilities and the ties that come with this sharing, and thus crave to use the “flight method” to escape (since it is no longer an ideal situation). Now of course I am only strictly speaking on behalf of observing this, for I am not claiming this to be fact within all cases (for there are many other sides to this coin).

But as a result, and as a writer trying to express the unspeakable emotions that come forth within myself, I can only strive to illustrate what I am feeling through picture. Here’s an attempt to illustrate the desolated sorrow of an adult (and as a daughter) who has witnessed the crushing blow of defeat ; I watched as they walked away in anger, in spite, in frustration and confusion – I watched them walk away in a selfish (but most certainly needed) search for their true needs... for happiness and sharing can blind what was once an individual into becoming a meticulous drone of routine motion; sucking out the entirety of sharing and its purpose: to love one another and all (just simply to love).

**
I wandered the streets; lamps flickering in the darkness, illuminating the wet slippery slopes of hope tied to a thread. People often say that all they can do is believe in faith, but after humanity died (of its own wrongdoings) I couldn’t say that there was faith, but rather just that thread bear needle which pointed my mind in one direction and my heart in the other.

I followed many roads, many travelled by and others not so much. I had pins stuck in my eyes, and ropes tied to my wrists (all in the form of words). My brain had been eaten and spat out, and then rebuilt.

 I trembled in the cold; the barren wasteland of a utopic ruin lay around me.

I always knew that somehow I didn’t belong; I had always felt the connection with one and not the other. Call it an intuition minus the truth behind the emotion. I found out one day, and it all became clear (no, not clear as in a light sent from a place called Heaven), my mind rebuilt itself out of its confusion, into a stronger more logical reverie.

My daydream of happiness continued, but somewhere within, I felt it.

Despair.

A pathetic human squirms in silence, confined to only their thoughts. Silence takes hold, and empowers the emotion to grow stronger. The corner of the world encloses in, and the darkness vibrates, pressing downwards upon you. You sink farther and farther away, farther into those thoughts of negligent sorrow; and soon there is nothing to feel but the emotion in which you’ve conjured within your mind and your soul.

No warm place left.

My memory hurt, too much thinking.

The streetlights flickered, and my eye turned towards the blanket of sky.
If only that single thread of hope became more than just...

I began to run from the nightmare of my own despair.
The circle of anguish had started over. 

The End

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