Being Dead (Journal Entry #1)

Today I was washed over with overwhelming sadness.  I walked into my empty house and felt it swelling from within.  She wasn’t here.  This was all wrong.  And after a few moments I cascaded slowly into my routine.  My false movements.  My fake life.  I sat down to write, but nothing came.  Instead I listened to the last band she mentioned loving.  I curled up in a ball and I listened to the forlorn words.  I should have known.  I should have been better.  I should not be here.

I really am a dead man.  This is not my life.  I am not who I think I am.  I am not who I tell myself I am.  I’m just a shadow of someone that died almost two years ago.  Just a fake nothing without purpose.  And yet somehow I sat up on the bed and I wrote this.  I fought the urge to drink my pain away again and I wrote this.  I didn’t call out to anyone.  I didn’t act like I was fine.  And deep within my mind I think that maybe, I might have admitted that I am depressed.  I might have acknowledged that the situation won’t ever get better and that nothing can be salvaged from it.  The good that I do in this falsehood may not be worth all the bitterness and sorrow it brings me.

A fake smile and a fake life.  An empty bottle and a growing desire to burn out my lungs with the death wish of my ancestors.  I’m just a sad little liar with nothing to prove and nothing to gain.

Exactly what she said I was.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be someone else.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll really be dead.  Or maybe, it could all be a dream.  A lavish nightmare to beckon me from my Scrooged life and undo my mistakes before they happened.  Before I ruined everything.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

And so I leave to sleep or not or to routine myself to death or not or to make some new excuse for swayed focus.  Life goes on.  Death goes on.  I am death.  I live dead.  And I cannot change being dead.  And in that death there is no chance to sleep.  No chance to dream.  There is only despair.  And I am sure that in all my complaints and squabbles that I deserve it.

I truly do.

–Alan Venar

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s