Dear God, if there is one,
I am in church now, thinking. Sitting in the same pew I sit at everyday of my life, watching the predictable procession of Easter and Christmas services, funerals and weddings: the same old cycle of birth and rebirth. I sat at this pew as a child, when I was still ignorant of the world around me and thought everyone was my friend. I sat here as a teenager, when I thought the world was against me. And I sit here now, knowing that the world just does not care.
God, please tell me what my purpose is, why I was made to walk this planet. Because I don’t know if I can continue to dance this dance. It’s like I’m dancing in water. And the music. The music never changes. The music never stops. The ring of my alarm clock, the water in the sink, the ding of the toaster, the old coffee maker still grinding its gears. The hum of human life on the streets and the bus stop, the elevator taking me to the prison of my cubicle. The shuffling of papers, the fake pleasantries, the phone that never grows silent from people wanting their voice to be heard. The clattering of pots and pans at that Chinese take-out place around the corner, “the usual?” “yes, of course,” the sizzle of glazed meat on the stove. The TV showing the same people and their forced laughs, the exhale of the crease in the couch. The click of the lamp as the light goes off on yet another day.
Everyday, I dance to the same music. With a smile painted onto my face with cheap red lipstick. The fear in my eyes is hidden behind a thick layer of mascara and by the heavy frames of my glasses. The pain in my heart is covered by that blouse that never seems to wrinkle anyone. Pretending is easier than living.
I watch life progress on the other side my eyes. On the other side, where my brain is not. It’s like watching a movie. It’s like a fish looking up into the sky, hoping to one day fly with the birds. Do you ever wonder if fish, as they get lifted out of the water by a bird looking for dinner, think that their dream is finally coming true? Do crabs ever look up and think that fish are flying? Or has evolution made their eyes only face forward, and those that do have the ability to look up at the beautiful expanse of the ocean world and do dare to dream beyond the confines of their exoskeleton are wiped out by the brutal process of natural selection? Maybe I should learn how to only look forward. Dreams are easier to handle when they are dead.
Is it wrong of me to feel like there is more to life? That, if I just open my eyes, things will change? Am I just too scared to find out that life is nothing but a mindless routine, that the music will never stop, and I will have to keep on dancing? God, I look to you for answers, but what if I don’t even want them. I have grown used to the weight of the water that is surrounding my soul. I have learned to live with the empty void inside my heart. Should I just let the water fill my heart? Should I let myself forget?
No one thinks that they have reached their final destination. The future has to shine brighter and give us a reason to keep going. But what if the future is just an illusion? What if this current moment is just an infinite forever? A limbo between heaven and hell? God, I wish I can at least feel real.
Please help me,
A lost soul
Originally posted on the Literati Mafia.