quagmire

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i am in a place of little meaning now.

my innermost self is apparently dead. the “questions” that were getting “answered” a few weeks ago have suddenly stopped coming. a query arises, and is struck down by the mind with that indefinable attitude where nothing seems to matter.

something is missing within me.
i know not what.

i feel i am simply going through the motions. like life is a chore to be finished. that it would be so much easier if i could simply lie back and not do anything. that nothing is worth it.
i keep feeling that doing what i am is no use. that anything right now is being done because it has to. that all that i envisioned i would accomplish was crap. sure, i'll try to do it.. but for what ? in less than a decade after, nothing of what i say here would actually matter.

motivation. spirit. inner peace.
they all seem to be missing.
and don't seem to be within me. or without.

there is an indefinable feeling of lackadaisicalness when it comes to life. all that purpose that was driving me, all those permutations which used to make me think don't seem to have any use. they've all disappeared as well. life is a journey that has to be made, and is hence made. not to explore, not to change, not to revel in the beauty of the world we are in.

i've asked it all before : what really does matter ? does it all really matter ?
the difference is that now i ask: who the fuck cares ?

again, it seems that i crave to write all this down, in the hope that all these people who read me might be sympathetic; might give me some hope. that's not why i'm writing this. that is pathetic, and i don't want to realize that as well.

don't.
don't do that.
don't try and give me that hope that everything is worth it. that's not true, and it only means that i feel good; you feel good.

feeling good is no fucking use.

nothing makes a bloody difference.

why am i still writing this ? do i think that giving thoughts to people changes them somehow ? or do i think this helps me “analyze” the meaning of life, the universe and everything ? how do i know that they even have meaning ? how do i know that that meaning has any meaning for me ? why am i asking questions to which no-one can give answers to ?

why do i keep falling into this morass of frustration where i need to query the meaning of existence ?

must i?

no point. there's just no fucking point.

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3 thoughts on “quagmire

  1. Anon

    Nobody HAS TO. We are meant to be born and live… but we are the ones who choose HOW to live. Whether we need answers or not, it’s not that important in the end, at least for me. Whatever you feel comfortable with, that makes you happy or willing to live another day. Nobody has the answers to your questions, but the ONE who made us in first place… you just need to give a meaning to the answers you give yourself. We’re all alone with ourselves, SEV. Aside from parents, everyone else is a witness to our life. You choose who can participate to it, but don’t expect them to give you THE ANSWERS. There’s no point in expecting so much from people who don’t know you. You are the only one who has the key to your soul.

  2. SEV

    indeed, one problem i am facing is the apparent need for answers. and the lack of them. and hence the question: ‘does the question exist ?’
    you say it truly, we are alone. we hold the key. i know this.
    then why the post ?
    its all those fucking questions. i need to get them out. try and “analyze” them.
    as far ‘the ONE who made us goes’.. i’m still out on that one. regardless of my idea about Him.

  3. Jeni

    I know this feeling well. I refer to it as the ‘just when I thought I had all the answers, someone changed the damn questions’ syndrome.
    I always take it as a sign that it’s time to make some changes in my life.

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