Drowning

Sometimes, I feel like enlightenment is a curse.

It's crossed my mind whether there's really a quantifiable difference between believing a lie, and simply not knowing the truth.

Maybe I was wrong; perhaps ignorance is bliss.

I'm sitting here in a library; a place of knowledge, filled with so much factual text, information and intelligence, and people studying these volumes and presumably bringing themselves to some of elevated awareness, higher and intelligent.

And it's dawned on me that I've never felt so out of place.

I live my life in a sort of limbo.

Some people find that purpose they have in life, no matter how mundane, and they do it.

They work, they play, they have fun; they don't tend to venture beyond the boundaries or their normal existence, but that's okay with them.

They're content with their lot in life. They're all set.

Then there are people who, similarly, feel they have some goal in life, yet conversely have to spend years of their life immersing themselves in some chosen aspect, vastly broadening their horizons so they can achieve their ultimate passion.

I know for a fact that I'm neither.

I stepped into the outer world, into the waters of intellect and skill.

I just don't know how to swim.

I don't have a purpose. I don't have a passion. I don't have a goal.

I'm struggling to stay afloat, and the shore's nowhere in sight.

What if this was all a big mistake?

There's so much in my life that I don't understand, but I feel like I would have been happier if I'd never known it was there.

Like not being able to not see the trick to an optical illusion, things will never look the same to me. I don't know how it will ever be like it was before, yet I still struggle to make sense of what it is now.

Worst of all is I feel as though I'm wasting my time. I'm stuck in this strange place where I obviously don't belong.

And there's no way out.

"I've watched you fly on paper wings, halfway around the world

until they burned up in the atmosphere, sent you spiralling down

landing somewhere far from here with no one else around" - Rise Against

Confessions

I've always been an advocate for the truth.

There's nothing I hate than master class deception, and sometimes I even let little white lies get the better of my temperament.

Sometimes a lie is told out of malice and spite; the worst kind.

Sometimes it's told out of fear of the consequences of the truth.

A little more understandable, but in the long run the impact is probably much the same.

Yet concealment, no matter how big or small, leads to confession; an act which in itself can be very liberating and empowering.

I know form experience that certain confessions are extremely difficult.

My breathing gets all out of whack, and I feel my chest get so heavy because I've apparently forgotten to exhale.

But when you finally spit it out, there is a consequence, a react, and the ball starts rolling.

But what of self-confession?

Something you know, deep-down in your heart, but something that you can't bear to acknowledge.

Something you'd rather bury than accept.

No matter how difficult it might be to verbalise my most clandestine feelings, it's confronting myself with my deepest, darkest fears that is the hardest part of any confession.

Because they're usually the things you don't want to hear.

They're usually about the things you pretended weren't real.

And they usually come with the terrifying aspect that everything as you know it could change.

However, as terrifying as they are, these kinds of confessions tend to be the most fulfilling.

They bring with them the degree of acceptance that lets you "move on".

I've written many a blog on change, and how ultimately it can be a positive force. You shouldn't try to stand in it's way.

But sometimes, it's gentle, and waits for your permission.

All you have to do is say the word.

A simple confession is all it takes.

"guess I'm wish my life away

with these things I'll never say" - Avril Lavigne