Lost
I thought I’d only be gone for fifteen or twenty minutes, but I ended up spending over an hour on the road, wandering. Or taking a walk, as I’d tell anyone who asked.
What is this feeling?
Surely this isn’t the first time. I’ve been here before over and again, the kind that makes me push away the people I care about, because how could I ever explain what this feeling is?
Shallow, in the way a soul can be.
When everything seems to move, yet nothing truly touches the depths within. It’s like drifting, feeling everything and nothing all at once.
There’s noise around, people talking, cars passing, life unfolding but it all feels distant, as though I’m watching through glass. I smile when I should, speak when expected, but somewhere between those gestures, I lose myself again.
When I try to tell it…
To those who genuinely care about me, it only bothers them and make them worry, I certainly don’t want to be a burden.
To those I care about, it might seem as though I’m begging for pity, love, or empathy for being human like millions of other people existing. Pathetic.
If I were to talk to someone, I’d rather it be a stranger—someone who doesn’t know my name, owes me no obligation, and will probably never cross my path again. So instead, I write about it and release it into the void, where almost no one will ever find it.
I’m tired of pushing people away or asking to be left alone, fooling myself into thinking that’s how to handle this. I know it doesn’t work, it only feels peaceful not having to deal with people. I won’t keep them close either because I’m probably not what they think, so I’d rather wave from a distance where I can hide my scars, doubts, insecurities, and the fear that never really leaves.
From up here I can command respect, keep up an image, and feed them what to think of me while I take a walk at 23:00. EarPods in, worn-out Crocs on my feet that I refuse to let go of, and a gray hoodie pulled over my head.
I’m listening to Dave’s new album, the volume turned all the way up, yet I can’t hear a thing. The lyrics fade into the night. The beat disappears. All that fills my head are thoughts of how far I’ve come, whether I ever truly had a childhood, what I’ve been chasing all through my teens, and how messed-up adulthood is realistically starting to look.
Could I even explain that moment in words? I was lost in my thoughts, half-conscious of the world around me as I kept walking, drifting in and out of awareness, returning to myself only in brief intervals.
Locked in this routine, it still feels like I’m barely doing any of it. Just the thought of it all wears me out: school, work, football, business. I bet the clock catches a break more often than I do.
I hate being in this place, the place where everything feels stagnant. Stuck in the same rhythm, wading through the same days and feeling trapped in between.
What’s next, God?
Am I complaining? No, I’m too blessed for that. I’m just wondering what comes next.
What else is there?
When is the next phase? I can’t even see the picture like I used to.
Am I being realistic or just cynical?
What am I supposed to do now, keep doing what I’ve been doing?
Maybe pray more, try to stay optimistic?
It feels like life is a pizza, and I’m dying to get a slice. I shouldn’t just be here when there’s so much more of life to live. I can be more. I want more of whatever’s out there, and the thought of it is driving me insane.
Productivity doesn’t seem to help anymore, it no longer fools this feeling. It’s like I’m in the middle of everything yet not a part of it. Let something happen, something to take my mind off this void. Oh Lord.
Maybe I don’t need all the answers right now. Maybe it’s enough to just keep walking, and I’ll keep doing that until I find the way and feel alive again.