I wish we could all be in the same frequency; however, it seems we are all at different mental planes. Each one of us living in different worlds. Internal worlds in which a sea of emotions and ideas swirl gently and swim fervently; and when these worlds intermingle in the solar system of life, they either clash or dissipate away from each other into the coldness of space.

I am at a loss of action a lot these days it seems. So many thoughts, dreams, ideas, wanting, intention, and it all boils down to a big blank of oblivion. Creativity seems to have abandoned me. The other day I tried to draw and I couldn’t. When I find the time to write, all my ideas seem to have been robbed, they seem to have left me to inhabit the mind of another individual.

Gone is the romanticism, the passion. Has it all been a façade? Gone are the dreams, the fairytales, the regular television programming of a happy ending.  

What does this mean? I intend on making myself believe it is a good idea, to have a blank slate.

I convince myself that I can now reprogram myself. Am I being foolish?

I have developed a feeling akin to the emptiness I had become so accustomed to in my years as a depressed individual. But it is emptier even, because it is even devoid of sadness.

Gone is the sadness! But I am not content either. A feeling of plain apathy has settled in, like a vulture, eating away at all that I have been.

Have I finally reached the bottom of my own self fabricated abyss?

What is the purpose of my being here? It is something I have asked since I have memory. Something that baffled the mind of my own mother.

As of now, I have situated myself on auto pilot, serving the ones I love to the farthest extent possible, waiting. I am waiting for something, I just don’t know what. Sometimes I feel so close, and then something pulls me back, like the demons that have haunted me since I was a child.

Last night I dreamt of objects falling from the sky. They contained the secrets of the Universe & they had a name. It had a name, and the object was divided in four. Perhaps something similar to the four elements of life, and it was in my hands.

And from it was something so profound and waited for. Whatever it was, whatever it is, I will continue to wait.