John Green once wrote in "Turtles All the Way Down" that we have so many words to express happiness but so little to express pain. Pain, in its very depth, is silence. Pain is unexplainable. Pain is excruciatingly small.
When I am in pain, I lose my words. My words wish to come and sit beside me, yet I don't know how to tell them that I don't know how to speak. I stop writing. I stop living. And finally, I stop breathing. And I began to choke. I began to fall apart as if I have nothing to hold onto. As if I can't live but at the same time, I don't wanna die. I don't wanna die a death that is vain, pathetic, and above all, meaningless. Life is and should be meaningful. But death; even more so.
Death is the truth we can know for sure. Death is gonna be the ultimate truth. Now if any of you think, does she wanna die? Why is she so obsessed with death? Nay, definitely not looking to die, but I do wanna live so that when death comes, I am able to think, "that wasn't so bad."
-20.09.22
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Log 2020 Onwards!
RandomBack with my wattlogs! My monologues, dialogue with inner critic, going round and round in my head and whatever snippets of my life.
