Foggy season

The loud alarm wakes me up groggy from the previous night’s dreams, and I’m struggling to unplug the tangled headphones so that I can turn them off. I wake up to see the gloomy morning sky and the crows doing their peculiar dance while making strange noises. It’s 7:13 AM.

Every day is alike, with the same cat meowing for food in the morning, the same arabica coffee that has to be prepared, the same bed that needs to be put together, and the same dishes that need to be washed.

I’ve grown sick of yearning for new things and expecting miracles to arrive. I guess I’ve simply been delusory, believing that if I give it my all, all my energy, and all my true self, everything will fall into place just as effortlessly as I make it look.

It’s irritating because no matter how much I give, I get so little in return. For the time I offer, I get loneliness; for my true friendship, I get false people who gossip behind my back; and for my work, I get a monthly wage that goes toward expenses.

I’ve even lost the urge to go home and unwind since I’m constantly there and there’s always something to do. It’s simply another apartment with thin walls and loud neighbors, where I feel like going insane every day, getting angry and laughing, smiling, and then sobbing.

It’s not that bad

The issue is, I can’t even complain since it’s OK. It’s fine that I have a decent job, a family who cares for me, a pet, friends, and that’s it amid this epidemic. However, if everything is fine, why am I unhappy? Why can’t I find my place and feel as if everything around me is superficial, neatly packaged in a box with a gleaming ribbon on top?

I’m not sure whether I’m blind or if not conscious of what I have around me, but sometimes I feel trapped, going around in circles, trying to figure out what’s going on. I’ve worked on myself and ventured to clear the fog by surrounding myself with the right things and people.

The irony is that I now have no notion of what is right or wrong, and I’m living my life with my eyes closed, wishing to trust fate in the new route ahead of me. The problem is that I’m blindfolded and keep going in circles, stumbling on unforeseen circumstances and bumping into cold strangers.

I used to read somewhere that when you lose your way into the fog you end up in beautiful places. Though I worry about what awaits me in the next chapter of my life, I know I need to get lost so that I may eventually find my way and purpose.

2 gânduri despre “Foggy season

  1. I wonder that the disillusion is a precursor to something new, can’t move forward unless the illusions are dispelled, well in my case that’s true, maybe not yours, just a thought.

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