Evading yet still gripping, these moments have held me for a long time. I feel like there's nothing to enjoy, or perhaps enjoyment itself is a false emotion I'm constructing. Yes, emptiness is what it is, yet I still look forward to tuning into YouTube in the morning when everything is fresh. But that too has started to deteriorate.
Everything is consumed by the day, whether by humans and their humanity or by the constant chatter of voices speaking their minds. Yes, the mind speaking to itself, surely for a reason, but for a long time I have chosen to let it sleep.
Either by having it cornered by multiple things at once or by getting it hooked on dopamine, I have lived under the notion that I worked better with many things running simultaneously. But as I move forward, I have found things rather tasteless. To keep it quiet, I abandoned many things along the way because the way it felt the first time no longer does now.
It was not loud, even my mind wasn't. Rather than taking it all in, it wanted to show me, and I know by virtue of writing that all those indulgences, let's call them that for now, were not waste. Although I find it difficult to breathe when the only voice talking is above, had I not done or pushed that aside before, it would have been different. I have lost the feeling of going on a long walk after a long day, the numbness of everything around me, and the euphoria of it all. I regret it, maybe I don't. At the end, it is all me; my mind is me too.
Writing through it all, I feel as though the mind is numb, but in that case as well, not talking to itself but imparting to you and to others. Much like you, writing has made me get through these moments, and eventually I will be able to enjoy those long walks again, uninterrupted, although music can stay there for a while.
Ladies of Hive Community Contest #287
The image is mine.