You know that feeling, when you look in the mirror and forget that you are human?
How did I get here?
Is this forever?
Which path was it that led me to this aphotic existence that now instigates my subconscious fight or flight response?
As instinctual self-preservation emanates through my core, my past failures begin to unwrap the buried lies of doubt and worthlessness.
Consuming my every thought, my once celebrated successes are nothing more than a forgotten star in the distance.
I have conformed to societies flawed interpretation that only success brings joy.
But for me, it leaves an empty detached void, a hollowness that incites an insatiable, intangible, and unrealistic craving for something that likely does not exists.
I’ve become overwhelmed by the expectations of whom I perceive I should be, my spirit has been rendered restless and imprisoned by the intricate web I have spun.
The inadequacies that taunt me no longer just whisper; they have morphed into what seems like the mocking chants of a deafening drill Sargent, overpowering any confidence my triumphs once provided.
When my trepidations swell, an all-consuming nothingness assumes the containment of my apprehensions; resulting in an all too familiar numbness that hushes the intensifying hysteria.
Yet, my outwardly demeanor still beams with gleeful smiles and bubbly conversations, as if I were a renowned actress of a Broadway play.
Flawlessly executing daily routines like a robot devoid of feelings, has subsequently led to my now rapid descent to withdraw.
It’s only when the moon rises, and the bitter cold night kisses my skin, am I able to feel the depths of gravity in which I have now sunk.
I long for just a moment to sit in the silence; to again know what alive is; to relish in the fleeting preciousness of a minute; and breathe in the air like I were the last to ever breathe it.
If only this life was as simple as pausing these moments forever, then maybe I could claw through these restraints held by my metaphysical jailor.
But I can’t… I am but a captive trapped within the confines of my own mind, unable to escape from this place I once sought for refuge.
Who I am, has now forever been locked away perpetually silenced by the paralyzing anxieties of failure.
With desperate premeditation, the imposter savagely excavates my senses of free-will and individuality, creating nothing more than a hollowed machine set for auto-pilot to please social standards.
How can I find my way back to the familiar semblances of freedom I once unconcernedly neglected?
like, laying in the grass looking at the blue sky when the seasons seemed to stand still;
and the many times when all was silent but the wind rustling the forever green leaves of spring, that seemed to blissfully dance on the outstretched branches of a bustling oak tree.
Is there such a path?
Is it possible to back track the steps I took that led me to this place?
Or have the rusted steal tracks of this beaten passage forever been bonded?
Are they now forever irreversibly sealed? This new constant involuntary repetition has become like a nightmare to an innocent child
and the dream of carelessly frolicking freely through the warm summer nights are now fading faster than ever before.
Soon, all that will remain is a memory of who I once was; all then, will be forever lost because of the desperate need to deceive those around me.
I have unwittingly spun this web, thinking I could hide behind its beautiful design.
But Instead, this indestructible creation I once crafted for refuge,
now swallows the weak and has bestowed an eternal curse of apathetic regret, I can’t seem to escape.