At last! I have acknowledged the enigmatic plane of my existence. I don’t know why or when the idea came to me. It is as if my eccentricity in all its outlandish glory could see the fabric beginning to unravel and knew the only choice left would be to staunch the pleasantries of everyday life and furnish the beaming terrain that is my consciousness.
What to fill inside a cavernous cognizance of continual questioning?
I am becoming acutely aware of the dissatisfaction that comes from merely living. My desire for stimulation and adventure bother me as I sit in my desk in my class in the space that is safe and stifling all at the same time.
It is the same truth our parents were told when they were our age. But the assurance of the matrix is something we all are subject to: a covenant of safe-keeping as long as you don’t question its functionality or why it exists in the first place.
Already I can see that I am afraid. I feel behind my eyes a dull numbness that rings in my ears and tells me not to look back. There is no question to entertain. I want to taste brilliance in each day, and never be afraid to feel pain or seclude myself inside a core of apathy.
To remember this, exactly as it is, and savor it and realize the entirety of everything I’ve ever taken for granted.
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