Cripples

You know the feeling when you're supposed to do like a million things, but you can't start even a single one? And the more you think how much you should do and how little time you have, the less you get done? Yea, I'm in that place. It's First World Problems, I know. I lack motivation in every area. I failed my last module and I should rewrite it, but the thought of failing it again cripples my fingers on the keyboard. This was my first fail in university and I managed to graduate as a bachelor before this happened. It'll be an avalanche if I don't get this done, and I know that, but still I can't start writing. My body is a cage, and so is my mind.

My motivation is not the only thing crippled. I think the last adventure with the heart was the last drop. Not the final drop, just the last for the time being. Inside my ribcage it's numb and quiet. Silence that I haven't heard in years. It's not only that "i don't feel like it", it's that I don't feel it. He was the thing that broke the camel's back. He left me speechless.

But where does the brokenhearted, the damaged souls, the cripples, go? Where can they find people who understand, who wants to be there for you as much as you'll be there for them? Where you can find same-minded people, the ones who won't judge you based on your looks, your mannerism, what do you do in life, how old you are, or what you're supposed to be? Where can you find people who have scars and wounds, who are special, disabled and lame, just like you?

No idea actually. We're all individuals so I doubt there are people who knows exactly what you're going through. I get my peer support from the guild in World of Warcraft, you have to find your own place. It felt like returning home after a long time of adventures. It was weirdly natural to take my place as the guardian of the mailbox again. Being with old and new friends warms my heart. My icy cold, rejecting and judging heart. Outside world is too cluttered for me right now.

If this world hasn't taught me anything else, it's that none of us are free. We're all crippled with fears, prejudices, our bodies, our mind that thinks too much or doesn't think at all. Some of us are unable to love and some of us love too much. We think we can't do the things we want to do or be the person we would like to be, because of a seed of doubt in our mind. How long do you have to keep repeating to yourself that you're a good person and you deserve good things until you start to believe it?

I wish I had more words, more witty blogposts, more energy, more love, more heat, just overall more to give, but I don't. What I have is a broken keyboard, no money, a messy apartment, weird sense of humour and a thirst for chocolate. But I can share from those, any takers?

The song of the day could be any of the ones in cursive, but because there are no words, let the song be without them too.

Don't get me wrong, sometimes it's good to be silent, good to be without words. Maybe then I can hear the rythm, hear a beat of a heart. I just need to listen carefully.

So let us have a moment of silence for the passing winter. Let the spring come.