Rid me of myself

A dark heart aches for the light of the sun to remedy the trembling that is sanctioned by acidic tears. The clouds ahead luminesce with a dull, haggard murk, mirroring a lifetime of lost sleep that is engraved into a face. Sometimes I look outside, peer into the distance that seems as if it spins on forever, and I imagine running to the other side. I imagine where it leads, how it follows, what I will feel. I imagine that perhaps the scientists were wrong and the world truly is flat. I imagine going this distance, exerting all my energy to finally reaching the end of infinity, and falling off—deep into the black space, perpetually falling into a dark unknown.

In numerous ways, I find myself correlating this concept to that of life. I have begun to realize that perhaps that is the secret….or rather, the secret is that there is no secret. I, a rather vigilant individual, spend a gross amount of my time observing and analyzing the actions and words of others. I oftentimes notice that many appear to act without hesitance, not truly planning out or crafting every move that they make. It is almost as if they live by the rules of chess. Every movement depends upon what is thrown at them by their opponent. In this case, the opponent is the environment, people, situations, etc.  Considering my tendency of always being the girl to follow a pre-made schedule every day, this idea of “freedom” relentlessly frightens me to no end. However, I do believe I am now realizing just how consuming, not to mention destructive, my austere and rigid lifestyle is. As I glance at the calendar of inspirational sayings tacked onto the wall, I notice that it has been over a month since I have left the dark, cold confines of my house on a Friday evening (an even more mundane thought is the fact that the outing was my first in over 8 months).

As these notions raucously clash to and fro within my skull, I am now aware of just how awfully exhausted I am. My mind so sluggish, my limbs so weak, that it is becoming hard for me to even find the energy to finish calculating the calories I have consumed today, for the fifth time the past hour. It could change, suddenly. How do I know that I did not sleep-walk last night and subconsciously allow myself a bite of a sandwich to cure the dull aching deep inside my stomach? How can I be so certain that the air molecules I am breathing do not contain trace amounts of calories from the fumes of the pizza my sisters ate yesterday evening? For these reasons, I must always be constantly aware of my count and nutritional percentages. However, I just do not feel like I have the strength to do this again today. All I want to do is lie down outside beneath the sun and allow the warm, burning rays penetrate deep into my veins.

I want to be rid of these debaucheries.

 

~ by candyshele1204 on April 15, 2012.