At times, I want to be so little, I disappear. I want to stop existing. There was a time in my life
At times, I want to be so little, I disappear. I want to stop existing. There was a time in my life where I didn’t want to walk along any major streets. I didn’t want to be around people. I didn’t want to be watched. I didn’t want to be seen. Have you ever felt such a strong and intense desire to crawl into yourself until you disappeared? Until there was nothing left to love or hold or hate? Escapism has always rung true since I’ve first heard the word. I don’t know how many years ago. I know I have always felt elevation. I know I have always felt that my feet are not bound for the Earth. I know I have always felt a lift in the wings that don’t exist. No matter how much I try to ground myself in the present, I know I exist on a different plane of existence. I want to disappear and when I do, I never want to return. It is not a tale. To exist in imagination, to exist in a world that visually defies logic. These days, I’m not sure if I’m transcending or if my mind is slipping away from me. Fragments of dreams or deep meditation suggest that the world I see is not the world I exist in, or could exist in. Shapes are strange. Shapes are formless or 2D. Colours bleed into each other. Truth becomes a narrative. Logic and reality become narratives. A tale to be told, to be questioned. In the moments I’m left to my own thoughts, I wonder if I am unravelling. If I care that I am unravelling. I long for touch or circumstance to ground me. I am moments away from disappearing. Sometimes, I wish that when I turn to the side, I can become paper thin and disappear completely. -- source link