I'm A Spectator Of My Own Life

I'm an idle spectator of my own life. I am watching everything from afar. Just passing by. Just happening. Just breaking down. I would love to take control and do things. But, I am so scared. Of what, if you ask? I do not know. Of people? Of circumstances? I do not know. I just feel so burdened. Like, I have withdrawn from something. I have no say in something that's entirely mine. I am observing but not functioning. I am in the spotlight but the background is the focus. It is been so long since I have been in focus, I have forgotten how reality feels like. It is a strange, hallucinating sensation when I am jolted back into reality after zoning out for a very long time. I can touch my life but not life. Like there is some disconnection. Like when you hold a hot cup of tea but the hotness doesn't affect you anymore. I just sit here and watch the small parts of my life unfold with very mild curiosity. And, once in a while, there is a lockdown. I am unable to think or speak. My brain gets thoughts but I am unable to decipher them. Or I am unable to construct sentences or think of words to express them. It feels as if, my life is passing by yet I am sitting in the same spot. On the same rock. On the sideline. Silently watching it just... go.

- Oizys.

Scared To Desire

I am so scared right now. This is one of those typical times that determines what will happen with my life, if not in its entirety, for the next ten years. And this is the first time I have wanted something so badly in my life. It has nothing to do with other people. No one decided it for me. No one influenced it or directed me toward it. I did not have to ask my sister if it was right for me. I did not have to ask my parents if I could have this. You know, it was one of those things that sparked something special in you. Something you did not know you were looking for. And, when you find it, you feel like you have found everything you have ever prayed for. There is a very brief, soft moment of happiness. That one-minute of sweet calmness until the stinging starts. Then you just burn. I was so happy. Then I got scared. Because if I don't get it, I will feel a lot worse than the happiness I have now. With the weak heart and low self-confidence I have, I will probably give up everything. But I do not want to give this up. And that's why I am scared. This could define one. I'd like to take a course at a university. It could help me achieve my dreams and goals. I know, after learning what it is, it might all sound very dramatic, but it is what it is. It is important to me because of my circumstances and situation. This is what I want. But, at the same time, I am so hyperaware of my mediocrity that I am just scared—if I do not get it, what will I do? Where will I go? It has conquered my entire mind so that I can't plan any other things in case I do not get into that university, which makes me anxious. Because, now if I do not get it, I have no other safety net or plan B. You know, one of those things where you get so strangely possessive that this is all you want and you can't see anything else but that? I may sound like a geek or a nerd or a dork or whatever the word is for talking like this about an university, but... it is the first time I am deciding what I want to study. Previously, in school, it was either my parents or, in college, it was my sister. But, for the first time, I know what I want. I have even connected with loads of people from there and started learning the language of the country in which the university is located. I told almost everyone about it. It is oddly settling. It just feels right. And I don't know what I would do if I didn't get in. It would get so difficult to get in the next year because it would require coming all the way back to ask for letters, to ask for documents, and to stop paying loans. It is a weird and difficult situation, which I cannot fully explain to someone but which I wish I could. I wish I could explain to someone how much this means to me and how difficult it is.

- Oizys.

A New Year Entry For Myself

A new year acknowledgement to me. '23.

-  Oizys.

Do You Think I Can Also Make It?

First of all, I donot know why I put the title in second person as if I am talking to a person. But, do you think I can make it? Fulfil my dream? Live my passion? Do what I like?

- Oizys.

How Do I Give Up?

How do I give everything up and escape? No single thing seems to be fruitful or meaningful to the very least. It all seems vague and hollow. No single thing piques me anymore. I have been dragging myself like a dead soul for god knows how long. It keeps getting worse and worse if not just the same. My knuckles and knees, scraped to the bones from all the dragging. I don't know for how much longer I can keep dragging this. I am desperate to leave it. Drop it. But, I don't know how. I'm unable to leave it. No matter how hard I try, it is just too mazey. Stuck in my hands. No matter how hard I try to wash it off, it just doesn't stop. How do I give up.

But, all I know is. I need to leave. I can feel myself at the edge of insanity. One little nudge and I will lose it. I need to escape. Run away to somewhere else far away or to non-existence. Anywhere but here. I need to go. My left foot itches. The left side of my back twitches. My body rotting every passing second in anxiety and jittery. I need to escape and I need to run away.  

- Oizys.

Kafkaesqued In Life

"Suffered much in my thoughts." (Franz Kafka. From a diary entry written c. November 1919.)

"Dreams flooded over me; I lay weary and hopeless in my bed." (Franz Kafka. The Blue Octavo Notebooks, 1917-1919.)

"I'll shut myself off from everyone to the point of insensibility. Make an enemy of everyone, speak no one." (Franz Kafka. Diaries.)

"I've spent all my life resisting the desire to end it." (Franz Kafka.)

"How many days have again gone silently by?" (Franz Kafka. Diaries.)

"I feel so lost among these entirely strange people." (Franz Kafka. Diaries.)

"The relief of giving in to destruction." (Franz Kafka. Diaries, 190-1923.)

A few years ago, I came across an YouTube video about Kafkaesque. I discovered Franz Kafka. And then I discovered his diaries. Since then, I have been wondering how do I stop relating to his excerpts. When I started reading his diaries, I found a part of me wandering in between those parts. A part of me I have been searching. A part of me I have been looking. A part of me that was sick of life. That was tired of existing. And when I read Kafka's words. I realised my desire to meet the end of my existence. I realised an innate need in me to just stop. The word "Kafkaesque" deeply resonates in me now. Even if you wish to escape with causing absolutely no harm to anyone, there will a labyrinthine like sprial staircase waiting for you to cross. When you stare at it angirly while people whisper "calm down", your body starts to feel the hopelessness, the annoyance towards of absolute absurdity in life, bottomless pit of nothing but failures and disappointment. Every day, every night, the words from the copy of the Metamorphosis appears infront of your eyes, "Why don’t I keep sleeping for a little while longer and forget all this foolishness."

The Aesthetic Cottagecore Fantasy (A Comforting Lie)

Green garden, handpicked berries, her company, her soft white cotton dress, pouring orthodox tea, with freshly baked bread and sweet butter, some wine in a cup, in the backyard of our cottage, the soil and herbs growing and their earthy scents, humming sapphic poetries to each other, collecting flowers for each other in a woven basket, whipping cream to bake yet another strawberry cake.

Ah, the view from the kitchen. When you peel oranges. When you brew tea. When you wake up, groggy eyes and walk into the kitchen for a cup of soothing coffee and a warm stream of sunlight hugs you a good morning. The kitchen window. When you stare outside at the sunset painting your kitchen orange, while you stir your vegetable soup. Or toast your bread and cheese. Or bake your bread. Stare at the empty street at night, bees and insects humming near the streetlight bulb. The kitchen window. The window to the core of a content and well-fed soul.

Is this a dream? Are we in a dream? Or, are we living the dream? And, whatever it is, hope we never escape it.

- Oizys.

 

I'm Done

I can't even drag myself anymore. I'm so done. I'm no goal to look forward to. I have no options to choose from. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I like. I don't know why or for what I am moving forward. Each day, it is just the same chores and sleep. Hollow. Empty. Nothing to wake up to. And just heaviness to sleep on. All these parched parts of my life are desperately squeezing for water out of me. But, I have nothing to give them. Nothing to quench the dryness of this soul. 

- Oizys.

Descending Into The Dichotomy of Ignorance & Apathy

People in my life have been telling me something in me has changed. Something integral.
I lost interest in getting up in the morning all of a sudden.
I did not care about the mess or the clothes strewn around.
I did not want to look at the marks dropping or opportunities passing by.
I stopped caring about patches of dandruff and pimples.
I stopped taking pictures and capturing moments. Stopping altogether from making moments
I stopped listening to music. I stopped dancing to music.
I stopped talking. No thoughts came to mind anymore.
My creative ability waned. Words were no longer a constant companion.
Blank papers became a regular occurrence. I stopped penning.
A few pages of reading became a chore.
Friends moved on.
Cousins and siblings moved away.
Life walked away.
I descended into the dichotomy of ignorance and apathy.  

- Oizys.

I'm Tired Of The Constant Expectation To Be Happy, To Have Fun

I am unspeakably tired and burnt. I love my friends but there is a huge portion of my existence that they do not understand or if they understand, they do not feel the need to acknowledge it. It is that I get socially tired. I run on a battery while interacting with people. And, it runs out. Further, it takes time to get charged again like some unrenewable resource. I get tired of the constant need to have fun, the constant demand to take pictures, and the constant clinginess to have fun all the time. They need to be perfect and to look good with an artificial smile plastered on all the time so all the pictures come out really well. They need to be available and free and have the money to go around and eat and drink. They need to have fun all the time and constantly plan for the next outing without even having some time to recover from the previous one. I am tired. I am exhausted from the constant requirement to be happy. I am not essentially sad but I am just lacking the energy to be happy. I just want to be. Again, I love my friends and they are the best anyone could have. But, I fear. With my weak social energy, I might be pushing myself away from them. It is, at times, too much for me. Just so much more than what my mind can take. I just need some time to be me. Just to be. The constant need to be aesthetic is making me sick in my soul. Because it also is a constant reminder of how I am not perfect and of how I am a just misfit trying really hard to fit in a little bit. And, this is exactly what I need a break from. I want to just exist in my routine without this tiresome expectation to be perfect, all ready for the camera. My veins are dry from the extended efforts to be hip with them. My mind has become barren. I need to sleep without the lingering thought of how should I escape from the next plan. I need to read, write and work without the hurriedness of having to go somewhere. I need to laze around without the need to dress up, look good and travel all the way to take Pinterest-aesthetic pictures for the socials I don't have or use. I am tired of constantly thinking of ideas to give as excuses. I am tired of lying. I am tired of faking excitement and enthusiasm. I am tired of trying to be perfect for the camera all the time. I am tired of being someone else all the time. I am tired of looking for reasons to push away my friends all the time. I am tired of complaining about this and not being heard too. I am just tired of running away from people who once used to be my comfort zone.

- Oizys.