now that i’ve figured out yet again that its not another person who can make me whole, i feel lost, surrounded by the same fog. aimlessly watching the days pass by, embraced by the same anxieties that had never really left my side, they were always there lurking in the corners, waiting for me to weaken again. i feel afraid, will these feelings ever leave me? its not inadequacy, its more of a fear. friendlessness. i am at my lowest again. with no one to confide in. i have nothing to be proud of, nothing i can stand on. the year has been so good to me, yet i feel like something is wrong. there is a sorrow that i’ve left unaddressed, not on purpose. its more of a turbulence that i’m avoiding. a tip of the iceberg that can potentially ruin me further if i dug any deeper. i feel so so lost. just a week before i was the happiest i have ever been in these 22 years. life was perfect everything was smooth and then as if some switch turned off on saturday and my sandcastle of happiness came crumbling down, it didnt even take a wave to crash it, it just fell under its own weight. what was it, what was the trigger. what made it happen? was it his voice? was it the shattering of an illusion? he turned out to be a normal human, he wasnt the god i had made him out to be. is that it? was that all? why am i so miserable again.
There’s a small blackhole hanging over existence when i see it from here.
A thin glass wall, thinner than the thread holding back an un-uttered word, a force field fortified by hesitant glances.
The more i try to break it down, the stronger it gets.
Thickens. thicker than the thought of all that could go wrong.
More impenetrable than the solid block of air in between.
I get a heart that cant seem to pause between beats
If i reach out to touch, maybe it would shatter, like an illusion of fate.
If my finger tips were to graze the tapestry of time, maybe it’ll turn to dust like a moth-ridden blanket held together only by blind beliefs, draped over nothingness
If i touch,
Only if i reach out.
Just a small movement of the hand. a twirl of the fingers, and it could all fall.
One touch. traversing all odds
Tearing through all forces of nature that stand in between.
it just struck me today: alot of people dont like me. well not exactly that. like is a strong word. indifferent. a lot of people are just indifferent to my existence. if anything good or bad were to happen to me it wont affect anyone save maybe three people. i used to live in this bubble of pretense. i am important. i am charming. whatever i say or do is worth something, it’s news. but it feels like a curtain has been lifted and the other side has been revealed: the ugly reality that i am not as important as i thought. if i were to dissappear maybe a few people would notice but won’t bother to check the reason for my absence. Then a couple days will pass and all will be forgotten. surhan who? no answer. no one knows. to be struck off the records of life, to become a faint distant memory, blurry and unsure. Did i wish this upon myself? Some time ago i wanted this to happen. I wanted everyone to forget me, but now that i see it slowly manifesting, i hate it.
Ever since the new year has started, a feeling of urgency has been lingering in the air. I can feel it with every passing second, every minute feels wasted and unproductive. It’s final year. The last year of my student life. No, college life. I will still be studying for 10, 20 more years but not as a student. There’s so much that i long to do, so many things i would take up, but i am restricted by the way fate has played out. This is not a declaration of envy or bitterness to those who have it all, but for the way things are and the order of society. How favourable it is for certain people to climb the ladder of success and how hard it is for some to even find this ladder that stands enshrouded in the fog of capitalism. There is no security for the future that we strive so relentlessly hard to perfect. The world is always at the brink of war. There’s emotional conflicts that lay ahead which, with my limited exposure to people, i can’t even begin to imagine. It’s like a minefield. Its amazing how all of this is such common knowledge, like Pessoa said, anything i say has already been said by someone else so there is no point in confessing. Maybe he’s right, what use is all this. But he also says that he writes to relieve the fever of feeling and i think that’s the only plausible explanation to why i’m writing the same words, saying the same things that thousands of people have already said before. It is also because all of mankind is united by the fact that we are one consciousness, and our experiences and emotions are bound to overlap in the venn diagram of humanity, or whatever Jung said.
Whatever the reason, one thing is certain. I am afraid of the future. It might be nothing new to read or hear, might not affect the grand scheme of things, might even be boring to whoever i take this to, but it is what i feel. And i feel it with such an intensity that it makes me sick.
I’ve figured out my obsession with social media and posting something all the time. It’s because it gives me some sort of comfort, some proof that i do exist. That i am real and i have a presence. If its on the screen in front of me with my name on it and people engage with it, it means somebody must’ve posted it and typed it and this somebody actually exists in the real world. It’s like a reciept that yes these memories actually happened and im not imagining them.
This has to be the first time in my life that I’ve ever dreamt of cows. The vision is etched in my head, i couldn’t stop thinking of it all day. All that comes to my mind is the pharaohs and how Yousuf’s prediction of the king’s dream of cows was 7 years of doom. Anyway, i dreamt of cows. They were so big, so otherworldly. Majestic is how i would describe them, twice the size of normal cows.
I was in a park or a field of sorts outside a school i went to i think. I was on the field talking to someone and suddenly the atmosphere grows gloomy. Grey clouds come out of nowhere and all birds start flying wild. A strong wind starts blowing leaves off of trees. An impending storm. I start running in the direction of the road and there i see them. Rows of white/tan-ish cows sitting on the edges of the road on either side, but they’re sitting in pairs, a male then a female then a male then a female, i can tell by the horns. They are not normal ordinary earthly cows. They shine, no radiate in the dark. When they stand up the tower upon you. I remember being so mesmerized by them in the dream, I said out loud “mehoon?” which is sindhi for cows, and one of the male cows, the one with horns looked at me and replied “mehn” as if to affirm.
When it starts pouring, they gather in pairs, a male and a female and start running in the direction of a tower. I grab the tail of one of the female cows and it leads me to it. Theoretically i should stumble and fall and the cow should kick me to get me off but none of that happens. I glide through the fields and let go only when we reach the tower. There’s stairs that lead up to a warm room, i walk up and see other girls who have also sought refuge from the storm. I don’t remember the rest of the dream, but the cows…they will haunt me for a couple of days it seems.
When i try thinking of how this year went, the only word that I keeps flashing in bold in my head is this: stagnant. I’ve only been stagnant this year. I’ve just oscilated from one point to the other, from the starting point to the ending point and then back to the starting point, with no productive outcome, no net movement. I’m in the same state of mind I was in December of 2018. I am living in the same emotions and the same thoughts with zero growth. I entered 2019 with the aim of being happier, but I’m caught up in the same habits, I still smoke, now more than ever, I’m starving myself because I want to rot off in slow unnoticeable ways, I am unconsciously doing things to myself and people around me to make them repulsed by me so that I can die in peace. I have no energy to make effort anymore and I’m scared it will only get worse next year.
I have achieved nothing, I haven’t read and learnt more. I’m stuck in time and I can’t seem to move forward. As if my feet are cemented in the ground.
“when the sun is ready to set this new year’s eve, I hope it takes me with. so when dawn creeps up on January first, and a new light prisms through the clouds, I pray it falls on my street, on new leaves and fresh hopes. I pray it finds my house,
and creeps through my window, around my bed. i pray it finds me in peace, deep in a final sleep. eyes forever shut.”
i dont want to die anymore. i wrote this a few days back and its taking every fibre in my being to convince myself that i dont have to die as a solution. i was looking thru last years journal entries to see how far I’ve come. Every page says the same thing in different words. All i wanted was to be happy this year. To find joy. to see how it actually feels to be sane. normal. having a healthy brain that shuts up when u want it to.
For this year, i want to be happy. I want to be actually happy. i will seek help and not try solving everything on my own. Im attaching this for 2021 me to look at and feel proud of how far I’ve come. I want to live till atleast next year. Getting rid of myself is not the solution. it will cause more damage than good. i have an example to set and i cant ruin suhaee’s life like this. it would be extremely selfish of me. i want to stay alive. atleast for 1 more year.
Theres things in my mind that i have no control over, my actions, my reactions my bad habits my impulsion, the way i behave, my persona, i can’t keep myslef in check at all times and it really really bothers me. I cant control what i dream of. I’m scared of going to sleep because it means i’ll dream of Newtown again. I keep telling myself that i’m better and i’ve adapted but have i really? Am i really a new surhan? am i no longer the surhan who lived in newtown? my unconscious keeps dragging me into the past and all i can do is run. I keep running and running and i dont even realize how tired i am. how stiff my legs have gotten. or maybe i’ve gotten used to this running. i want to move away from all this thinking and dwelling. i am better and i have adapted. i am better and have adapted. it kills me to think that i can be a thousand kilometers away from a place and it can still haunt me, so deeply so vividly. i cant get rid of these thoughts. everytime i close my eyes im in newtown, i find my way there no matter how im doing in life. The house haunts me, no matter where i am, whether im happy or sad my mind keeps me in check by reminding me of my ugly childhood. its like carrying an invisible sack of potatoes on my shoulders at all times, only i can see it and sometimes even i grow blind to it. i am better and have adapted. have i really or is it something i keep telling myslef to avoid the fact that i’m actually far worse than the newtown surhan? instead of growing out of it and becoming a better person, i keep growing into it. its like a tumor that is getting bigger with me, and its grip on me keeps getting stronger. i want to stop thinking.