Its crazy. I don’t feel anything or maybe I don’t feel anything strongly. I wanna strongly love, strongly hate or just feel very very blue or angry or embarrassed. I cant even seem to remember a time when I felt anything. Perhaps I used to because I cried a lot but even in my memories I remember the tears but none of the feelings. Maybe I had too many, my fair share for my whole life but perhaps not because there is no apparent impact of that in my life. I am certain that feelings which are such strong things themselves must make huge impacts in people’s lives too. I have no impact in my life. The world, the people I know would perhaps have been the same had I not been born. So in a way, I haven’t been born yet. Can you understand what I mean?
I feel bad sometimes for not feeling anything. I momentarily cry too. I know you would say that that is what it means to “feel” but if you think so I am sure you didn’t get me quite right. When I say “to feel” I mean to feel real. To feel passion, love, hatred, sadness, anything so strongly that it drives you. That you struggle with it. That it becomes a part of you. That feel you lose it you kind of lose your identity for a while. That that feeling becomes you and your efforts and actions are just guided by it.
I envy those who feel. After all life is but all about it. Given the choice between my current life and staying very very sad, id chose the latter with all my heart. Maybe both options are bad, I have to experience the latter to decide. But I know this, when you are this numb, you start feeling selfish but then it’s not even yourself that you love enough or care for. When you don’t feel, you don’t grow, you don’t change and its comfortable for a while until it gets stagnant, like water kept in a shallow puddle in the open for months. Like the mosquitoes who breed and the birds who come to drink, bad and good things keep falling on you and hitting you. you don’t move or feel but they still affect you by imprinting themselves on you. You still cant move and with time it just becomes increasingly stagnant and dirty and stinky and sticky and you just want to not be you. Be fresh. But you cant because it doesn’t really affect you so much. Nothing does. It is a punishment, far greater than any other.
Maybe I need a reason to justify my incompetence. Its not easy this way maybe the other way is harder. But the thing is I don’t know. And I want to.