Jessica

She left a deep scarring on that emotional plane, and I would never feel whole, nor adequate again to face the world outside, that I would never be able to handle relationships, that I would never be confident of whoever I may be. Or maybe there isn't anyone to begin with.

In the after years, He left me wondering too.

There are times when lonliness seems too much, yet indelibly remains a part of me. There are times when it overwhelms, yet with the submersion, it is altogether subsumed, and that I lose the need for company. Such is my fate. Yet I wonder sometimes of the what-could-have-beens. Such is not my fate.

The fight

Everyday, we have to fight. We fight for our breath, for our space, for our identity as a human, fight to exist. The level of fighting differs. I have become sedated enough, that often I forgot how to fight, and sometimes, I am weakened. It is part of us, this fighting, and when weakened, it exposes me. So once again, I rouse myself, throw myself into the battle and resume fighting. It never ends.

God knows

God knows how much crap it was. Only God knows how it seems so deja vu. The one with the least emotional intelligence. Nothing clean will come out of it, I promise you this. Nothing good and the resultant reclusion repeated.

Carnival

It was a carnival, no less. No one knew much about each other, everyone's identity masked, but everyone was there to find something, I should think. Some wanted love, some wanted other things, so it was like a hunting ground or something, except that a lot of the hunters were drunk. But as I look on, I know I would not be able to find what I was looking for. It is after all, a carnival, and an amusing one at that.

A carnival has to end, eventually, and it ended with a headache and a stomachache which lasted long enough. Would I enter again? Things would decide for themselves, I think. But I am changed, I think.

It is all there is to it

Human lives are teleological by nature, without which, there can be no derivation of meaning. Like a story, one apparently must have an end in mind whenever one undertakes an action, although sometimes the journey, as always said, matters more than the end, still, there must be an end. Still, it is with Death at the end of the human life that probably establishes meaning in our otherwise meaningless existence. Immortality is a curse. Or perhaps you have heard it already.

And so it is with the human life that I subsume myself into, unrealistically that may be, it is the only realistic path. That I should find love, and hence, watch myself grow old with each evening, and inch ever closer to impending death. That is the life of a human.

This reminds me of the Lord of the Rings ending, where everyone boards the ship to some faraway place, where one doesn't die, ironically, it is with death that they become immortalized.

It begins anew

Resolutions made, expectations configured, do I really know what I want? They say, pursue your dream, yet is it an impossible one? I am destined apparently, to be short and pockmarked, this eternal search for perfection and fulfillment of the soul.

The show must go on.