Its weird, really. I have this unstoppable desire to pursue life and be happy but there is some invisible force that keeps dragging me down here. I am trying so hard to climb up and get better with my life but its easier said than done. It is this unending stairs that gives me an illusion of ascending but in reality, its like I’m wandering around a Penrose stair: circling around this black hole of unending anxiety and despair but never getting anywhere. It is this irony of life that is so odd that it all boils down to the waiting game, the act of surrendering to social norms and paranoia that you yourself becomes the thing you despise the most: a phoney. You create an illusion of happiness based on people’s standards and wants and you believe it so much that you become blinded by the truth. The truth that you are not being forced into a prison but rather, you are incarcenating yourself into a bottomless loophole of unending greed. Prison of the mind. And what is worse than being a prisoner of your own disillusionment? Infecting others with it. A group of imprisoned minds yelling to be let out but they have in fact the key to the cell. It is self-deception actually with no real motive or reason behind it. We feel oppressed but we ourselves are the oppressors and we take advantage of that self-pity. We agonized with our fake pains to give ourselves reasons to be angry, to be mad. A rage that is directed to nobody but ourselves. So we self-destruct. We try to correct the morals we intendedly destroyed and get depressed when we fail. Isn’t this an example of a mental suicide? The purging of the mind.
It’s weird, really.