fallibilism

Every walk seems uphill.
What if everything I learned did not make sense any more; that in the context of life it was inconsequential knowledge, no way to apply it. So far, I survived by regurgitating facts, regurgitating morals, beliefs. Spewing out what I valued. What I always valued, what I have been taught to value. Somewhere along the line, there formed a schism. The split between who I should be, who I think I am, and who I really am. They aren’t in agreement anymore. The pervasiveness of my sub conscious isn’t so pungent anymore; it doesn’t penetrate my waking thoughts.

They rebel, against them at first but recently against me as well. I can’t follow it as a straight line anymore. My life is not linear, my progress devolved. I don’t know where to start, or restart. Success doesn’t depend on happiness anymore, it depends on survival. It is not just home that feels like a prison anymore, it is everywhere. It is as if the gelatin expired, and the jello doesn’t hold to its mold anymore. I am disheveled, mostly mentally.

I just want time to pass. I know, time is the only possession of mine.

It’s consumable, and it’s expensive.

But I don’t want it anymore.

I forgot how to do this.

Function, that is.

I don’t know how to do this, anymore.

I don’t know if I can.

This is an escape.

I am not real here or there but it doesn’t matter because reality is only a perspective.

It’s only temporary, right?