I knew it was time to stop. God knows for the longest time I’d beaten up myself over it. There was nothing more I could do, the ball was in motion and it was all my fault. Stupid stupid stupid! Not again you dimwit! I hurled all manner of insults at myself as though I was a separate being. I detached my spirit from my body and cursed the life out of it. Weak and weary, I decided that it was enough. Though in all honesty, I knew it would go on. I’d be back at it the next day, then the next, then a month, and so on. Forgiveness.
I’ve placed myself at a higher pedestal. I’ve allowed no one to reach me- not man, not spirit. It’s super easy to do this, and super hard to do otherwise. Cocoons are the best thing- nobody knows too much. But then again, the very attention we want to evade, hits back two-fold. We only realize this when we make mistakes. I only realized this when I made a mistake. One I couldn’t hide from, one I welcomed into my home. Into the centre of my heart. I made the mistake consciously, because I believed it was what the world wanted of me.
The universe speaks to me, it tells me to make mistakes while I’m young. Within such time as I can ask forgiveness and it be granted. So I did. Repeatedly. Mistakes became solace, the universe would understand me. I would belong. We were one for a moment there, myself and the universe. It didn’t feel as I thought it would. So I turned elsewhere. When I did, it fought for me, pulled me back. Told me there was nowhere else to go. I fell for it, and I gave myself to it willingly. ‘Devour what’s left of me, leave me to die.’ (Spiritual Death)
It didn’t do as I asked, scheming bastard. It didn’t tear down my nature, rip out my heart and kill my desires. It left me to feel emotion that I didn’t want to feel. Left me feeling sorry for myself. Left me confused… was there still hope? Could I still remember who I was?