Aimless, Askew, Alive
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Sink or swim.
Climb or fall.
That's all there is to life.
It's tiring. It feels as if I've been swimming all this time. I've been climbing this cliff for my whole entire life. And yet, I remain in the same spot where I began. I am still lost, stranded in the middle of a boundless ocean. The summit of this mountain is yet to be seen. It is getting tiresome. My body is withering away with every stride. My mind had begun to whisper words of hopelessness.
"Give up".
"Don't struggle".
"Let go".
With each and every one of life's trials, the thought of stopping grows ever so prominent.
I want to give in.
I want to sink.
I want to fall.
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There is no drug more potent than ego. Hubris will always be man's downfall. Be that as it may, I believe that every man needs ego to live. Without it, you will only be living life going through the motions. You will live in a constant state of plateau, a life without desires and, consequentially, without suffering.
It sounds like a perfect life if you only take the last part of the previous paragraph. Life without suffering would most definitely be preferable to a lot of people, me included. But in every stage of my life, with every decision I make, every person I meet, I found myself desiring, indulging myself in the pursuit of my ideals, chasing those that I wish to possess.
Pride has always been my drug of choice. I have the utmost belief in myself over anyone else in the world. I am hyperfixated on myself. It is a constant series of I, I, I. Me, me, me. I think, I feel, I believe, I want. I live as though my point of view is absolute. Things and people that do not align with me, I deem inferior. I look down upon others from an ivory tower of faux self-confidence. I seclude myself from others because I want to be better, in a way that I thought mattered.
I feel like I had little to no guidance throughout my upbringing. I am the eldest child in the extended family, on both sides nonetheless. My father was, well, a busy man, simply put. I always thought he never really knew what it took to be a "father". And thus, I was mostly left to my own devices. I had to sieve all that was around me, figure out what was good and what was bad on my own. I had no North Star, no lighthouse that I could use as a lead. I was my own North Star, I had no choice but to determine what was right and wrong out of pure intuition.
Along the way, though, I found a few guideposts that I had missed. My father was one of them. As I transitioned from childhood to teenagehood, a resentment grew within me. He was lackluster and provided me with no help in figuring out what it takes to become a man, but my brain was more developed, and I was able to see things from a different perspective. If he, himself, never actively guided me, then perhaps I could simply look at him and learn from a distance. He was not a good role model for the most part, but that just meant I had to flip things around a little. With that, I decided on two things to follow;
To do the complete opposite of what he did and to be better than he is as a man.
This could be the guidepost for my life ahead, was what I had in mind. I thought it would take me an entire lifetime to complete this set of goals. I was wrong.
It was spring 2018. I was yet to turn twenty. It was a... "family talk". Not once did he look me in the eye. I stared him down, anticipating, waiting for our eyes to meet as he talked about his justifications for his "decision". He did not look at me once. I smiled, as it was the only thing I could do.
At the ripe age of nineteen, I knew. I had completed the goal I set out for.
Once again, I was my own North Star.
It further reinforced my self-righteousness. "If I could sieve things on my own, discern the good from the bad, become better than a person almost triple my age before even reaching adulthood, then what need is there for me to seek out what others have to say? Surely, everything I've amassed thus far is the absolute good".
I became a vessel of pride. I was full of myself. My self-confidence turned ugly, what started as something I found through journeying life on my own became a wicked means to judge others. Perhaps sitting in that ivory tower of mine turned lonely, and I wished to have someone to accompany me. I wished everyone else would see things my way because my way was the right one. If I could do it, why couldn't they? If they could just have it in them to want to be better, they could share this tower with me, and I wouldn't be so lonely.
That right there was where my perspective lacked substance. What does it even mean, to be "better"? To me, being better is to not blindly conform. I was always a loner and grew to hate conformity. I wanted to be different for the sake of it because in my head, being different, choosing the path less taken, is what makes one better. This skewed perspective of mine made me see things for what they could be, instead of what they are. I wanted people to be more like me. I didn't want to conform. Instead, I wanted people to conform to me. My beliefs.
Reality, however, is not like that. The world does not revolve around me. These things I found, the things I picked up along the way, all these decisions that defined me, only ever applied to me. I had no right to enforce this on the world.
In the process of finding the self, figuring out what it meant to be me, I became conceited. I became hyperfixated on myself. I made it all about myself. Me, me, me, me, and always me. I was not self-confident, I was self-absorbed. I never considered what I could contribute to the world, I only ever thought about what the world could contribute to me. What they could give me to make me feel like I belong. How they could change to my liking and make me feel more comfortable.
Adulthood came, and before long, a person came into my life to tear my very existence to shreds. A proper slap in the face that woke me up and shook me to my core, though it felt more like being hit by a wrecking ball than a slap. I thought I was bigger, better than everyone and everything. Turns out, I was the smallest among them. Small, helpless, and unsightly. I was not the beacon of light that I thought I was, but a deep, dark, bottomless abyss filled with hatred and conceit. I thought I was superior in my ways. In pursuit of strength, of becoming better, I inadvertently became weak, frail, and inferior.
In the pursuit of finding myself, ironically enough, I lost any and all sense of self.
“Preoccupied with a single leaf... you won't see the tree. Preoccupied with a single tree... you'll miss the entire forest.”― Takehiko Inoue (Vagabond)
I was preoccupied with myself. I never wanted to be "better", I only ever wanted everything to go my way. I failed to understand how the world works. I failed to understand others around me. I am selfish. I am immature. I grew to spite the world. And I hurt. I inflicted pain. I burn bridges. I do not forgive, nor do I forget.
I was swallowed whole by my own pride, my own hubris.
And here I am now, writing before you. A series of passages that may mean nothing to anyone. I have been reduced to my very core. The North Star I used to find within myself is no longer present. The beliefs I used as guideposts have led me so far astray. How do I stop being preoccupied with a single leaf? I want to be able to see the forest in its entirety. But what do I have to do to get there?
I am still swimming. I am still climbing.
But where do I go?
I am not the person I thought I was. I'm no longer sure of what I've always stood for. I doubt the validity of the beliefs I've amassed through the years. I can no longer discern the good from the bad. Was I ever good? Or have I always been rotten at the core?
I have lost my way. I have no North Star. I have no lighthouse. I have no guideposts.
It all feels aimless. I have gone so far askew. And despite it all, why am I still alive?
When the mind goes, the body follows suit. My mind is not in a good state. I'm hearing whispers of despair and hopelessness as I go.
It is telling me to let myself go. To stop struggling so hard.
Perhaps soon, my body will no longer want to keep swimming. My body will deny my command to keep climbing this endless cliff.
My journey thus far, is it all for nothing? If that's so, then there's no harm in stopping, is there?
My heart aches, for I have been betrayed. By none other than myself.
I want to sink.
I want to fall.
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