A Period of Devastation

I have entered a period of devastation. The mere idea of navigating through it is rife with dread. I have been terrorised by time, resulting in this despair-filled chapter. I don’t know what to write.

I have begun this for a reason, but it seems I wasn’t conscious of what it was. For I am here, but the pathway is completely invisible, both forwards and behind. I stare at myself in the reflection of the lamp.

Desire is a surface-level sensation. The feeling of being incapable to live without something, someone, that is one with depth. How does a person persevere?

There are two of us tied to this situation. Two at the core, anyway. There are others, but they exist on the periphery. They don’t truly know. They couldn’t. They won’t.

The two, the me and the her, are unaware of how to live. What we feel is living only exists when we are together. In this period of detachment how do we cope?

Well, truly, our heartbeats can only be propelled by one sentiment, that our chapter of bloom is on the horizon. Seeking a future time is the only way we can live. And on the journey we will devour any small pleasures along the way. I am ready.

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[11.05.2023]