In about a little over a weeks time, I shall be turning an even 20 on the age scale. A pretty ripe yet soiled figure, if you ask me. Indeed, it has been twenty years! This number ‘twenty’ holds no particular significance to me, hence the fairly modest ignorance towards the 9th of December this year. I sincerely look forward to no celebrations of any sort, no fabricated wishes or ostentatious presents.
Ha-Ha! Who am I kidding? I talk so as if I had ever been previously victimized by the excessive coverage of a birthday. Gonads to everyone!
In all actuality, this matter is of the least concern to me. I shall make myself more scarce. Even more “actually”, this entire brawl of words has spurred from a nothing. A nothing of thought, a nothing of feeling, a nothing of existence!
Time to gargle into the night. Only a delinquent writer chooses to strum a few mindless words at 1am in the morning.
Indecision is malignant. Atleast for me it is. An affliction that gradually encompasses all will & finally leaves the brain to rot in its own choices. It is much like an ill-conscience only with more physical manifestations. In no way am I trying to imply insanity of self, rather, I believe I might be suffering from a mild psychological disorder.
Often my past resonates before me and all insecurities go awry. A harsh remark from somewhere, somebody impinges. This is where my physical weakness surfaces, baring my deepest, darkest fears. A similar but much suffocated incident took place two nights ago. I am not cautious of what might happen to me in terms of physical health. What concerns me is how much of my soul is delved in soot. Fortunately, I had an arm around to cleanse me right there and then, with His Grace of course.
But how long shall this continue for? I am not aligned to diffuse into another phase of life when I still have amends to make presently. And then my greed for independence, summed up with greater wants of self-accomplishments. Yet it all bottles down to one question: What Does It Matter?
In a sedated furor of the mind, I’m forced to resign myself of casted thoughts. A sequential archive of dubious proposals stack up. I am caught between indecision and proclamation. Lord help me!