Existing Is a Curse

Dear you,

Those who said that people do not change were wrong; life changes us. It makes us who we are not, forcing us to wear masks beneath masks, until the truth of us is concealed even from ourselves. We lie. We pretend. We say we’re OK when we are not. It is not lying, per se; it is just another way of telling the world “Leave me alone,” because nobody does. Nobody gets the idea that when we need to be alone, we really need to be alone. We need to detach, every once in a while, from the things we are so attached to, like technology, or friends, or family. We need times for ourselves, alone, to think of the world, and of how we’re doing, and why we’re doing it. We need to ask a complex question: What do we want from life, and what is it that would make our death a better death? Would it matter if we were remembered? Would it matter if we made a difference in a million living souls? Is it the numbers, or the impact itself? Do we even ever stop to think? No, we don’t.

We simply exist. We do not live. We simply exist, in the most boring, horrifyingly terrible and mediocre ways. We exist, and that’s that. 

May we never not be ourselves. May we go beyond existing, and way beyond living.

Yours faithfully and sincerely,

N.