Sunday, May 13, 2012
The problem with having a parent die when you're a kid is that it makes you realise early on that most things in life are really not that important, because after all, we could all be gone tomorrow. The existential crisis jump-started at an early age for me, and my brain retreats too often into those thoughts, effectively flattening my world of color and emotion. I hate that actually, but haven't learned how to suppress or counteract those feelings. So they come and I feel empty, until they disappear again. This colors my relationships grey, and fills me with anxiety as I stir myself into an eddy believing everything is for naught yet I keep trying to extract a feeling from deep inside my soul. It's a puzzle I haven't solved.