Hello there, Gandalf.
Yeah, I said yesterday that it was an aberration that I wrote twice, but guess what, I’M INCONSISTENT. Big boohoo. You shall just have to deal with it.
Why am I writing right now and what will I write about? I honestly haven’t the faintest idea. I’m just feeling feelings of dissatisfaction and insecurity dwell up in me again, and it turns out I have a way to deal with it without petulantly whining to Amnah about the littlest things now.
What am I feeling? I know I said I feel free to be pretentious here but it’s still costing me a lot to force myself to speak as I mean to. I’m feeling a void, Gandalf. Did you know, reading the creation myth of Arda gives me chills now? And it was not void. I’m not void either. I know that. But I feel it welling up within me. It’s colossal, Gandalf. I can feel a battle of celestial proportion rage within me. We all have a star, I think. It starts out burning incredibly bright. But there’s a black hole in my world, and it’s threatening to consume it. Imagine everything happy suddenly becoming invisible. Or worse, imagine it losing its happiness. Imagine that there’s a colour, and seeing it makes you immediately sad. Now imagine that you view the world through glasses tinted that colour. That’s how a lot of the world looks now. There’s a hole in me which contradicts everything worthwhile. It’s not a big hole, and very often many things make it worth it. But it keeps poking its big head everywhere and it makes me hurt. I think this counts as pain. It’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt, but more abstract than anything I can understand. I honestly don’t know or care if it’s depression now (reading online makes it seem more like a mixture with anxiety, actually!), all I know is that I’m dealing with it.
Yes, Gandalf, dealing with it. The fact that I’m typing this is me dealing with it. Dealing with it doesn’t mean I’m impervious. It means that, in spite of all of this tainted air, I’m able to power through and exist somehow. I want to be proud of me for that, but I’d like to feel a bit more successful first. Right now, I’ve not managed to do it quite as effectively as I want.
I just realized there’s been a lot of dying behind the scenes recently. It’s possible that thinking about that in the background has been getting me down. Nabeel’s friend (Basit, I think his name is) died in the car crash which broke Nabeel’s cheekbone. The next day, there was another car crash on pretty much the same spot which cost a six year old girl her life. I walked by that spot later. The ground was still sprinkled with glass and blood.
Does death bother me? Sometimes. Sometimes no. I think it depends on how I feel before then.
No, Gandalf, I’m not a typically morose person, you infernal jackanape. Yes, I did make that up, go eat a duck. I’m actually (I hope) a fairly entertaining and lively person. My mom says it’s easy for new people to talk to me and I can help put them at ease. Amnah says she can be her favourite version of herself around me. OJ said I’m sort of like his moral compass. I’ve got happy traits, but you’ve got to think for yourself : why on earth would I come and talk to you when I’m happy?? I’m hilarious. I crack myself up. I’m soooo funny. Right??
Talking to you is easy. I don’t know if that’s a good sign because I’m able to rely on myself for some basic mental first aid or a bad sign given that it makes me look like I’ve lost my lid. Only time will tell. Love you Gandalf.