For months now, I have been poetically silenced. Finishing my degree is a valid excuse, to some extent. But now, I wake up to nothing. I make meaningless movements and deliver mindless tasks. Friends are becoming more and more of a fantasy than a reality due to my lack of motivation. I've holed myself up like some sort of hermit, yet I have nothing to show for my isolation, unlike many hermits do...
I beg myself to find a new job, but I fight back in self-doubt. I need something to fill my days, but I refuse to search. I battle myself on every situation, every idea, every encounter that I might come across. I battle myself because my mind knows nothing else. I battle myself because I know the outcome, I know I will always lose. That is what I know. That and that there is so much more I know, but I will not allow myself to see...
This self torture has become a sick love affair. I want to pull away, but I seduce myself back in, succumbed to the sweetness of a tasteless void. I do not beat myself up over the nothingness that I feel that I have started to become, so self pity is lacking. I'm all too aware of myself for that. I have no idea whats going on inside me though. I wish I didn't know who I was, maybe then I would let myself in a bit more...
I'm a stranger in my own body though. Why the hell would I let myself in? I've written all that I could, though. I've found solace in this void, I can only dream of seeing something in the horizon that isn't a mirage. Something that is me. In love and in hate with my Borderline Personality Disorder...
One day...I'll see...maybe.
