time

Time, why you punish me?
Like a wave bashing into the shore

One day, you wake up and it's just like the previous day. Obviously, no two days are ever the same, but it's so easy for them to feel like they are. That's the problem. It's not that days can feel the same. It's that it's so easy for them to feel the same, just blur together. You wake up and you're not sure what day it is because it has ceased to be important because you know all that matters is getting through this day and this day only. And that the process will repeat tomorrow, and the day after, and the next day. Then you wonder, when did this happen?

I'm out of touch. I know it and you (yes, you if you're reading this) know it. When did I last talk to someone, write to someone else, or even check my e-mail? It's a terrible abyss. How many unread e-mails, phone calls never made, days spent alone has it been? Now it's been so long that it's as if I'm shunning the very connectivity that I'm so fond of because I don't want to acknowledge how long it's been and how far I've drifted from all the people I care about. I just want to assume that everyone is doing fine, nobody has changed and that I can reenter the world as if I was never gone from it. But I can't.

I can't reclaim those days I've let go by. They will only continue to slide by until I grab a hold of one and make something of it. I can see myself watching those days go by. I feel like I'm watching myself, watching my own life instead of living it. Like I'm living vicariously through myself, except I didn't choose someone I wanted to be. However, since I feel like I'm only an observer I can't change anything even though I'm right here, it's still me. But it's not. There's a bizarre disconnect between me and myself, almost like, not a loss of self, but something along those lines.

I'll get in touch with myself in due time. Then I'll get in touch with everyone else. If you write, it'll only end up in the abyss. If you call, who knows who will answer.