I had a dream that I met this great girl at a club. Or maybe it was a private party at a club. Who knows, it was a dream. But anyway, her and I were two kindred hearts. Both seeking something, but uncomfortable with the party atmosphere. I don’t know who approached who, but once we started talking we didn’t stop all night, even though we had to huddle together and practically shout into each other’s ears. No, I’m not sure what we discussed, but, whatever it was, we were laughing all night. And she was absolutely gorgeous. What did she look like? I honestly don’t know. All I can remember is that she had dark hair. Well, anyway, we were still laughing and having a good time by the time everyone had left, and finally the place was empty and we had to go too. When we left, I woke up smiling, totally convinced I’d fallen in love that night, and then I had to face the slow realization that the girl didn’t exist and that it was all a fantasy.
Dreams are like clouds. They’re tangible but untouchable, heavy yet weightless.
Why do I even wave to people in the halls? They never wave back. I wonder if something happened to me while I was gone. During the break, I must have disappeared. My friends stopped contacting me. When I say hi to someone they don’t hear me. When I wave, they don’t see me. At first, I wondered if maybe I was speaking too softly, so I went up to someone I used to know and shouted her name, flailing my arms. She smiled, waved, and ran right past me into the embrace of another. Then, in the hall, I stood still to see if anyone would bump into or even brush me. The crowd just walked past me and through me. Desperate, I shredded my voice screaming and wore myself out running. But nobody noticed, nobody saw, nobody cared. Eventually, I sat on the sidelines of their lives, crushing despair weighing on me, watching everybody else interact. Laughing. Eating. Sharing. Loving. I sat and watched. Alone.
Dear God, if you reject me on Judgment Day, you’ll only be the second father to do so. I was tired of being so sinful, so I stopped believing in sin. I thought that you were the source of my self-hatred, and without you I would be happier. And I was for a little while, but now I don’t have you, and I still hate myself. Which came first, the faithful or the faithless? I used to talk to God, but I couldn’t hear him. Now he doesn't hear me because I don't talk to him. I asked God, what happened to your faithfulness? He said, I delivered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. I asked, what about the other six million?
They say people who think happy people are deceiving themselves are depressed. But it’s true. All you happy people, sorry to break the news: you’re deceiving yourselves. Just take a look around. They say to identify and call out depressive thoughts. As if the depressive thoughts aren’t my own. Well, I thought it, didn’t I? My happiness is not contingent upon anything. If I get a raise, I will not be happy. If I get straight A’s, I will not be happy. If I am surrounded by loving family and friends, I will not be happy. If I stop everything and go travel the world, I will not be happy. When I was younger, my uncle asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. I said, I wanted to be happy. He said wisely, “If you are not happy now, you never will be.” He was right. Funny thing is, happy clouds are dark, stormy, and brooding. They scream and cry and rush in a whirlwind. Depressed clouds commit suicide.
It’s all a joke. Stop looking at me like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment