More and more, I grow weary of existing. I call it existing, because I am not living a life, I merely go through the motions every day; were I living, it would be a completely different story. But I merely exist right now. I see myself going nowhere, growing more stagnant with each passing moment. I work solely to survive, and schooling has become tedious. Last year, I feel like I grew immensely on a personal level, but that seems to have ceased near entirely. My relationships are crumbling to pieces, and I find that I lack the strength or want to try and maintain them with all but a select few. I find that with each day, I lose a little more of my drive to better myself, and I am truly afraid that I will just lull myself into obscurity and complacency, never growing or achieving any of my goals.
I feel like I don’t want to try any more though, like it’s illogical and meaningless to do so. History doesn’t aid me here, rather it emboldens these feelings; no matter how hard it seems I tried in the past to make things better for myself and those I loved, it never went anywhere. I was, and am, always running towards a goal, yet I never seem to be able to view any distance gained. I fear that I am in a rut that has walls so tall that the light of achievement is only viewable in ephemeral glances; always fleeting, and rarely tangible.
I need a break. I need to get away. I need to remove myself from the known, and live among the unknown. I need experiences so profound to my humdrum existence, that they shock me into remembering what it is to truly live. The little camping trips here and there tickle that need, but they never last long enough to have a meaningful effect on my continued demeanour. And with the obligations that I constrained myself to with the union, I don’t foresee a trip in which I can satiate this feeling of sehnsucht that seems to eternally nag at my mind.
I want to run. I want to play. I want to live. I want to learn the world. I want to experience foreign cultures, and realize what it means to embrace my humanity. I want to spend a month abroad, living day to day without a plan or reason for waking up other than to wake up and live a new experience. Time is a construct of Man, and I have a need to break the constraints for a bit, so that I can better understand and appreciate what it is to be restricted by it as needed. “A caged bird thinks flying is an illness.” To best understand what it is to be this locked down, I need a moment of freedom every now and then. I need to be able to “spread my wings” and remember that I am not sick, that these yearnings are necessary to be alive.
I don’t know how much more, or how much longer, I can take of this before I concede and remit myself to a life of malignant obscurity.