#ournumbereddays

Here and Away I've been hearing that the world is ending. I've heard it so much these days that I can either completely ignore it or never leave my house again. That is, if I actually left my house for things that don't directly enable me to keep my house. See, I've been thinking about driving nowhere. I've been thinking about becoming a box inside a locked room inside a dark house at the dark end of the street. I wanna go away until I'm gone. It takes so much less energy to not exist than it does to exist and get burned. I've been burned so much I'm not me anymore. I'm a stupid puppet version of me. I've got strings that lead nowhere. Nothing is pulling on me. I wish someone would drag my hand out of hiding and sign my name on the dotted line. There are days when I cannot find the sun even though it's right outside my goddam window, when getting out of bed feels like the key in the doomsday machine, so on those days, this is what I tell myself: whatever you are feeling right now, there is a mathematical certainty that someone is feeling that exact thing. This is not to say you aren't special. This is to say that god you aren't special. I too have kissed no one goodnight. I have launched myself off tall places and hoped no one would catch me. I have ended relationships because suddenly I was also exposed. But isolation is not safety, it is death. If no one knows you're alive, you aren't. If a tree falls in the forest and no one's around to hear it, it does make a sound, but then that sound is gone. I am not saying you will find the meaning of life in other people. I am saying that other people are the life to which you provide the meaning. See, we are wrong when we say I think, therefore I am. The more we say it, the more it sounds like "I think, therefore I will be." You cannot think yourself into a full table. You cannot think and make walls and a roof appear around you. I have thought and thought myself into corners made of words, nightmares, and what has it gotten me but more thoughts, a currency that only buys more currency. So please, if you want to continue existing, do something. Learn to make clouds with only your breath. Build a house, even if every wall leans to the left. Love it anyway, just like a season. Just like a child. Love how you hate yourself sometimes, because goddamn, at least there's still something to hate. It's so easy to think and keep thinking until you are the last person left on earth. Until the entire world is no larger than the space between your bed and the light switch, but I hear the world is ending soon. When we go, and we're all going to go, I will be part of it.