Profound Ferris Wheel

I cannot make a sound,
but I can listen.

My life is like a Ferris wheel–it has its ups and downs, but is overall predictable.

I just feel tired and worn down this week, in part because of work and the weather, but also in part because I know there’s something that’s not quite right. I keep trying to sound the depths. There’s nothing here underwater. So I’m stuck with two things: keep on keeping on while being aware of any snags, and not thinking about things too much.

The angst also comes from not knowing what the fuck I’m doing. A blind man has a better view of the road ahead. All that said, I knew tough times were coming. It’s just I didn’t think they’d be coming so soon down the line.

As I’ve said before, my inability to do anything right has been well-documented, so why this is a surprise to me is also a mystery.

But what is this feeling of dread? What is this sick, twisted, guilty feeling in my gut? Why do I feel so profoundly sad and, at the same time, profoundly guilty?

I suppose it’s because I imagine myself approaching god and, being deemed not worthy, am turned away to go who knows where. If god won’t have me, then to where shall I go? How many locked doors in dark streets do I have to try before I find the one that not only opens, but opens to a home in which I belong? What if there are some people who don’t belong anywhere, and I’m one of those people?

Is it any bravery to go on when it comes to this? Is it not safer to stay where you are?

There are many kinds of loneliness. The worst loneliness of all is when, faced with a multitude of locked doors, you realize there’s no one for you at all.

I guess that is, in part, what’s bothering me: the unanswered questions, including answers to the questions which I have not even thought to ask. There’s only so much reckless hope and bravado I can muster. I guess in true Anpu-nian fashion, I have to let that go. Take note of my feelings and let them go. Everybody has their doubts, their fears, their hesitations. Those who move past them are those who walk the path anyway. Nobody can guarantee anyone a happy ending I guess. The most important part is the journey anyway.

I’ll go look over my year-long reading. Maybe there will be answers there. Everyone’s got their dark nights.

It’s all the same to me underwater.
There’s nothing much to see underwater.
I cannot make a sound,
but I can listen.
Can’t tell up from down,
and now I miss them.

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