I think I found freedom once. It slipped away as soon as my dirty palms held the message. But I swear it was fucking real.
I found the thing that healed me. That brought me peace. Where your mind and body slip away for a second. And you’re gone.
Your whole identity. Poof. Like before you were conceived—the thing of beauty that is you. Gone in a single instant. All the pain and toil to build that up. How many years spent?
Well, I lost it. At least when I’m here now I lose it. When I’m just talking to you. I’m not here anymore and that’s what matters, because my self, at least how I see it isn’t very good.
I’m neurotic, anxious, paranoid, and broken. But maybe all souls are in this world.
Feeling and thinking too much.
So much baggage, so much weight.
How do we even walk a single step?
Knees buckling under the pressure. Self imposed walls. Everything that keeps us tiny and small. Living under that rock.
…
All that isn’t important, because I know you’ve felt it too. I could describe the weight forever, but it wouldn’t matter. Not a bit, because I’d be rehashing your same thoughts day in and day out. Those boring fucking thoughts.
This story isn’t about that.
It’s about when I lifted that rock up.
For a second. And looked out.
…
It wasn’t the world I saw. It wasn’t the mountains. Or the city. The walls that lined me.
It wasn’t anything my eyes took in that shook me. And that’s how it always was. It was the feeling. Dark and deep into my bones.
I opened my eyes and I saw without myself.
I wasn’t attached to anything I saw. Everything bounced around me. It lived and breathed and died without me.
I didn’t matter.
And in this smallness.
This realization that I didn’t matter.
For 99.99999999% and more of everything. I didn’t matter.
…
And that was the message of freedom.
And my mind relaxed. My body let go of that damn tension.
And I could just sit.
And take the world in.
Without myself.
..
And that was the freedom
I found
for an instant.
