Some months ago, I felt the urgency to decipher the mystery which bounded my feelings in perpetual contradiction. The times I drove home from school, abiding by some arbitrary moral guideline explicitly negating moments of unjustified pleasure( as if joy required strict reasons) propelled long-lasting feelings of unreality, whereby I tormented myself continuously. In the embryonic stages, I imagined the future to exist in a far, unreachable place. I imagined, rather perturbed at the thoughts the mind can conjure without effort, that for every investigative advance toward unraveling this unreality, I would be punished twice with sorrow and regret. Then, in a moment of artificial clarity, I realized that I misunderstood my feelings and that I erroneously referenced "crisis" to describe the mornings, noons, and evenings I languished in an invisible death. And I learned that mysteries are irresolvable. Like childhood memories, jumping mischievously between reality and fantasy, absolute certainty is capricious behavior sculptured in fine stone.
Explanations, rivaled by prevalent contradictions, pause or end at the moment of indecision. I can see the light at the end of the fucked up barrel, it's visible. I've exhausted this thinking already. Human beings were designed for communal life. Yet, the feeling of alienation is pervasive. The graceless, superficial, relations formed through kinship are illusory, transient, and thus lamentable. Uneven fragments comprise a poor representation of life. The mind, having detected inconsistencies, becomes preoccupied, obsessed with resolutions. Time will mediate the process without regard of progress or regression. When I think of you, which is not often, since mistreating my mind is the disappearance of all happy thoughts for eternally long hours( and some thoughts never return to me, coherent) I massacre your memory.
The situation, my shared situation, is immensely perplexing, nothing else.
