what is worse?
having no words to describe how you feel or to not have any words at all.
both lethal in their very own ways.
in the ruins of my mind i searched for me. through the memories. who was i? what was i like?
what has become of me now? and which one is the real me? reminiscing i reckoned that i was only what the situation demanded me to be and nothing else at all.
nothing beyond the situation.
i have not an identity.
i know how to be but i do not know how the real me wants to be.
i think i'll find my peace when "i will be".
calmness surrounds me and resides within me.
"...life is only the mirror into which a man gazes not in order that he may get a reflection of himself, but that he may come to understand himself by that reflection; that he may see what it is that the mirror shows..." — Arthur Schopenhauer, Feb 22, 1788
ReplyDelete