I think this is the most prominent and vivid thing I like to use my words for is how hollow my emotions truly are, I do not feel. humor has always been something that I have carried around, it hangs around my neck as a counterattack to whatever may try to pester and haunt me. it has been my most loyal companion ever since my whole being became numb, I do not feel. the only feeling that sticks around my aura is regret, regret that I have never once felt like a human being. the whole idea of a human being is foreign to me, conflicting, unusual, and absurd. how can one be stricken with such intensity and frequency of whatever chemicals the brain discharges, I will probably never experience proper function like a real human? whenever the clouds roar, lightning falls and gulps down its victim, not an inkling of sorrow drips from my being.
people think it is so poetic how I write about numbness when really, I'm just saying everything that has ever made me feel uneasy, being a human makes me feel uneasy. the concept of existence makes my mind slip away and wonder why I think the way I do because no one understands what I do. I never feel, all that goes through me is to never let anyone on that I am just a vacant, scarred soul that longs to feel. my mother constantly asks "are you happy?" and I always say "yes" because why would I answer otherwise? the last person who I'd let on would be the woman who gave me the life I so dread.
‘lonely’ is probably the only word that comes close to defining the ache in my cold, idle veins. there is no point in inhaling, exhaling, and trying to fit in with people who are not casualties of the void. I am yet to meet someone whose screws are hinged in the way mine is and I think if I am blessed enough for that, I would like to wither away with them, wilt with them, cease my breath with them and most of all, luminate the lonesome, darkened lane that I have trekked upon for eternity. physically, life is temporary but our souls remain to be judged by the Higher Up and I think, I will be a bit upset forever over how happiness was never anything to me even when the stars were aligned perfectly in every angle for my wake, the euphoria has been a word too alien to me.
I do not feel and I think, that was by default; someone has to let the null, blank vaccum weigh down on their soul so everyone else can have the pleasure of sensation and perception, maybe I am paying a price for something I never wanted. but that is okay, I do not feel selfish, I do not feel possessive, I simply just want an antidote to the deserted human in me.
I simply just want an antidote to the deserted human in me.
Author
Cerene
The Abandoned Woman, Female
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