I am tired of starting again and again
I’ve been into that dark tunnel my entire life
I am looking for light for as long as I remember,
Now it feels like it doesn’t even exist.
I need someone to walk me through it,
I am scared, really very scared.
Scared of loosing hope of getting out of this darkness
Sacred of loosing faith once and for all
Scared of loosing the very reason I am trying to win over this darkness
Confidence already been broken down,
Shred to it’s very existence.
Believe me when I say,
There’s no purpose of living anymore
Thats why this is my last try
I am calling out for help
As loud as I can
Hope that someone would reach me…..
It maybe the last thing you want to hear but odds are nobody is coming to help.
Yeah, I know it may sound harsh, but hear me out.
We all got baggages, our own shit. There are a few rarities who have risen above theirs and can help people with theirs, but the odds of you or me or most of us meeting such a gem or close to none. So, what we have around us are flawed people like us who have their baggages to deal with and barely enought time, energy or patience to think above their own self-interests. That of course includes me.
Now, say, by some luck and a lot of persistence, you show the world your baggage, your shit, your darkness, make them understand what a living hell your life has been. Your parents, your friend, siblings, wife, kid, girlfriend/boyfriend, teacher, a complete stranger or even a fucking therapist. Some will empathise, others will console, tell you it’ll be alright, even when it won’t be, some will support you, some will cheer you but nobody but can carry your baggage for you. Maybe they can tell you how you can handle it, but ultimately you gotta carry it yourself. You gotta walk to the end of the tunnel yourself, man. That’s all for the demotivating part.
You gotta keep walking man, you gotta keep walking, even when iit’s pitch black.
You hit a wall, fall to the ground, scratch a knee, you patch up, rest, go again.
I know, I know, it seems hard somedays, maybe more often for you than me. Easier said than done. Find a reason to get out of bed they say, what a fucking bullshit. You get out of the bed, so you don’t die in your sleep.
It’s easier to jump than to fly, easier to die than to live.
Sometimes, I get the urge to drop the ball, get in my blanket hoping that I never wake up to face the same shit and I actually do. But what for? All this shit, all these years of misery, what for? I wonder. To wonder is simply man’s biggest curse and blessing. And then again when I get out of the blanket, not because I want to but because I have to pee/poo, some blood starts circulating in my head and grogginess somewhat seems to fade away, it occurs to me that even if I grind a 100 years in this misery to live just one day out of it, it’ll be worth it. Ofcouse, if I could, I’d ask for more but to someone in my place, and from what I can read in your call for help, your place too, that’d be enough reward. It seems scary thinking about it, but then I look at the past few years of my life, I wonder “Where’d they fucking go?” For me, time is stuck in the moment when the clock broke. Maybe after all this, standing outside the tunnel, you’d look back and say, “Phew, finally”. And if not, what else do we got to lose except our minds.
Now, if my ramblings struck a chord somewhere, maybe made some sense, I hope it helps you. If not, just consider it as a rant of a madman stumbling around in the embezzling darkness.
Thanks for your time.
I hear you. Are you still here? I hope you reached out to someone other than here who responded quicker.