"Closing in, I hope that you make it. Closing in, I hope that you find your way." - Imogen Heap "Closing In"
These are the words I have been pondering the last few days, hoping to find an answer to how I'm feeling. When you can see the finish line, how can you be sure if you can make it there? I go through my days forcing myself to forget what bothers me, hoping that not dealing with life will make it not real. I don't know how long I can fight with myself.
The soul is a wooded path, and within the path is a fork that determines your end. To the left, I can see a person that is strong, or appears to be, but is constantly fighting to pretend nothing is wrong. To the right is a person who has no weight on their shoulders, but has no defenses to keep the world from hurting them. How can we choose? What makes one path better than the other?
Why is it that after seventeen years I still don't know who I really am? And why do I feel like I am always wearing a mask? I heart gets caught up at the thought of letting go. My tear ducts struggle to maintain composure as I quarry on the right path. Can I be myself and if I do will the people I know appreciate who I really am? And in the end, who am I? I still can't say, why is it so hard to know?
I rack my brain for a logical answer to everything, trying not to contemplate the emotional, but an answer will never come, just as closing your eyes will not stop the world from spinning. I am all alone in a sea of consciousness, full of the falsities of my double, the person that isn't afraid of anyone and is as a stone when threatened.
And I have lost myself to that face, a face that I cannot recognise in the mirror, a face that will forever tarnish the core of my being.
The end is closing in, I hope that I find my way...