“You’re not even close to depression, You’ve very alive. You just don’t know how to connect with someone and it makes you feel lonely. I think you love yourself but you don’t, because the people of this world don’t, so you don’t love yourself because you don’t live in this world to love yourself. You live in this world to show others that love exists in the minuscule of places, that the mundane, ordinary is sheer magic. So you feel the depression of the world internally, but you feel the love externally.”
I had just talked about this to two best friends of mine earlier that day about this very aspect in myself. Somehow one of my penpals and I had managed to talk about the same thing hours later.
I wrote a poem once that said the cure for loneliness for love. Should I have specified what kind of love? Eternity? Fleeting love?
What do you do when you feel lonely and connected and alone and disconnected and nothing all at once? What do you do if you feel happy and depressed at the same time? If peace and wild thoughts coexist, does peace exist at all? Can intensity border on absence? It seems as though lifelessness and euphoria go hand in hand as of late…and by that meaning the past two months.
Why do I subdue myself to such overanalytic thoughts? Is it possible to be both damaged and healing? Alive and dying? Anything, something, everything. Is this the dark side of awareness? Why is it that sometimes I can detach myself from such thoughts, and other times, i latch my mind to these racing thoughts until my heart grows tired?
I read somewhere that the two key factors that contribute to a successful relationship is laughter and affection. To be silly, to laugh, to love the unknowing, to love what may come tomorrow may not be what I anticipate, to love the demons that may or may not surface, to love the angels that flutter in every vein.
I have only ever had angels soar through me or demons penetrate my skin. I must love this simultaneity even if I do not understand, for one day I will.
I must remember: that sometimes the most beautiful things arise from the waiting place, for beautiful things run wild everywhere. I must revel in patience.
What am I waiting for? Will this entry be relevant in a few hours?
No. Of course not. Why else would I be writing this entry? What is the point of this entry again? I seem to have lost my train of thought just now… my mind feels mush today. Dreamland, is it time for us to meet again?