I scream into the void hoping that something acknowledges my existence. An echo, a shuffle, an answering scream: anything to mark that I was here--definite and resolute as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It goes hand in hand with all the people one sees on any crowded street. Those people go about their lives just as you do, with each little complication and ruffle and difficulty. But do any of them actually see you? Feel the air as you pass?
Do you notice these things as you pass complete strangers on the street?
The answer so terribly often is no. I certainly cannot acknowledge the existence of every single person I come across; to do so is to invite the insanity of walking outside and being buried, overwhelmed by the very air you breathe.
But still I scream into the void hoping that something acknowledges my existence--hypocrisy at its finest. I hope that someone stronger than I and takes a moment out of their life to really look at me and realize I exist just as they do. That they acknowledge that we’re both on this planet living parallel lives that may only cross for this one fleeting moment.
Days go by and I scream into the void on some of them. Others I’m quiet because I can’t muster the hope to raise the energy to strengthen my resolve to speak out and be heard. I drown in my own thoughts because there’s no one else in my head except for me.
It’s lonely being trapped in your own head when you can’t appreciate your own company. And for that, I hope for a fleeing spark shared between complete strangers, or for that dropped syllable between friends, to distract me. Just as the world goes on around me, around each of us, we’re all trapped within our own heads with only ourselves for company. It makes me wonder what it’s like for others; do they have identical struggles? Of course--but everyone lives differently, confronts their troubles in their own way.
It’s heartening to know that others conquer their difficulties that share so many similarities to my own. Knowing that it’s possible makes all the difference some days. Others it’s all I can do to survive.
My misery is void.
I scream into it.
Maybe someday I’ll unplug my ears.
Styles Yugen, signing off.