A note to self (for my birthday)
In a few hours I'll have aged by one year,
I look around and everyone seems to be so happy for me... I don't want to disappoint them;
And yes, some are perhaps too happy.
I wonder why...
Their sense of joy escapes me and I find myself facing a precipice.
Maybe it's the nostalgia, the innocence lost,
Perhaps it's the sudden realisation that I am fast becoming an adult,
Or it's the immense feeling that I am one year closer to imminent death, as we are all.
I am not scared,
I do not fret,
I am just tired and very depressed.
Depressed that as time runs its course,
As the clock slowly winds down to midnight,
I'd have woken up, looked at my hands and realised that they're worth nothing.
I have become the cynic,
Jaded and disillusioned with the years,
The shine of life slowly fades,
I mock myself,
I have accomplished nothing,
And perhaps I'll leave this world as I came, Unknown and without a farthing.
I am tired because I am running a race and there seems to be no end to it.
The path seems longer,
The goal a little more further,
Pushed back and back until there's nothing left a bittersweet memory of a dream long lost,
And the mountains always looming,
Surely there has to be an end to this nightmare we call life?
Finally I embrace the absurd as I conclude that I am like Sisyphus,
Condemned by the gods to roll my boulder up the hills,
Only for it to come crashing down...
My journey unending and tragic.
My friends, life has no purpose,
We try our best to escape the horror of living by fabricating a web of unreal realities,
Delusions that slowly consume us.
We forget that the only reason we live is for us to die and for our bodies to rot and continue this pointless cycle nature has provided us.
I say, live life the best way you can come what may.
If I die tomorrow or the day after, the only regret I'll have is being free and not free.