Article: Trapped in a Beautiful World
Life’s been so overwhelming lately. I’m aware that this is the case for most people and not just myself. While in this world of suffering, I feel extremely guilty for being engulfed in my own problems, I ask for your permission to claim this little space to share some of the knots accumulating inside of me that I can’t seem to untie but only avoid for the moment.
I get dizzy, I feel sick at times, sometimes my head spins, sometimes it pities me and simply settles for a consistent ache. The breath I take in seems to be far less than what I exhale, my insides feel itchy. I can swear that at times my heart beats an extra beat but can’t prove it. But normally I use one simple sentence to summarize all these: I feel stuck.
The Earth keeps turning and hitting me here and there as if the gravity doesn’t work for me but also too strong that it hits me to the ground. Nothing seems to be going my way. Nothing seems to be under my control. Nothing cares the meaning it once did. My own head is the most dangerous territory, though. Currently, it keeps saying that people don’t want to read this. But I’m not sure if my intention in writing this is to be read or simply to write. It keeps saying that people think I’m speaking nonsense at the moment. But I’m not sure if my intention in writing this is to make some sense to others or myself. Perhaps, I’m searching for some stranger to understand me as many around me doesn’t seem to. Perhaps, I just want to get this off my chest. Too many perhapses. Perhapses… is that even a word? Microsoft Word doesn’t seem to think so but I’ll just leave it there because it makes sense to me.
For a very long time now, I seem to only want to do what I enjoy the most. I mean, yes, people would always want to do the things they want to enjoy but this urge seems to surpass all the other times I felt this desire. It feels more like a need than a wish. A need that doesn’t seem possible to fulfil at all. I can’t get myself to properly do all the other things that are not them. So many things I need to do keeps getting delayed, or they feel like I’m not doing my best about them which is when life feels tighter to me. And when I do give in to the urge to simply just do what I like to do, my brain still doesn’t give me any rest. The books I want to read are not what I should read. The things I watch are not the things I’m expected to watch. The music I listen to isn’t what people expect me to listen to. I don’t follow the artists I follow enough to be within ‘a fandom’. The pieces I write are not the pieces worth to be seen and praised. I am so sick of this feeling of insufficiency, even within the things I love. I am so sick of feeling apologetic for the things I love and for the things I feel.
Instagram is full of people speaking about ‘being yourself unapologetically’ and yet, it’s way too easier said than done. Also, the world is full of two-faced people. Some don’t even realise being one. I could be one at times, too. We go ahead and encourage people to not apologise for the things they love and then, go around making fun of things we find ‘trashy’ without considering people that love them. And sometimes the words ‘love’ or ‘enjoy’ don’t capture what it means to certain people. Those two words can consist of escape, peace, healing, something to hold on to… You simply never know what something could mean to someone. The smallest most ridiculous thing could be something that came into someone’s life at a very pivotal point and became a significant touch in their lives. Many people talk about certain songs coming out at perfect times for them and saving their lives. Everything around us is tied with an invisible string and a small thing someone does could become an enormously catastrophic or wonderous event for another that we won’t even get to know about. That’s the danger and the beauty of the butterfly effect.
That’s why I don’t want to stop. I want to get lost in these things I love because as soon as I stop the ‘shoulds’, ‘woulds’, ‘coulds’, ‘have tos’ and a bunch of ‘they think’, ‘they feel’, ‘they say’ loom over me. I just want to do something for myself. But this beautiful world that I escape to sometimes becomes my own prison when it keeps me from fulfilling the needs of real life. No matter how much I try to escape, I have to face the fact that I can’t live in that beautiful world. The longer I use that world to numb the pain, the more knots are tied within the true world. I can’t find a way out. Out of the beautiful world, out of the ugly world, out of my head that constantly thinks about these alternative worlds…
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