Self Reflection (A Written Train of Thought)

I don’t really know what’s been happening to me lately, but I’ve realized I’m beginning to feel empty inside. Everything I do feels routine; almost mechanical. In a way, that fits with my view of the world in general. I’ve almost always seen the world as clockwork. Everything has its place, everyone has their purpose. But where do I stand in this vast machine?

When I take a step back and look at the grand scheme of things, my actions seem trivial at best. What am I doing with my life that isn’t being done by countless other people? Absolutely nothing. I have a mediocre job and live in a mediocre apartment. My skills are few, and those I have are limited and inferior to those of people around me. The way I see it, I really have no purpose in life.

If I look a bit closer than the grand scheme, I see someone who is fairly well liked by the community. I don’t know very many people by name, but I’m in an occupational position where I can have a small impact on people. I work in customer service, and I try to be a patient, understanding, and hopefully sociable person. If I have a customer who’s not having the best day, I do what I can to make them happy. If I succeed in that, then I’ve accomplished that at least. There’s a little purpose in that, but still not really anything that makes much of an impact.

Moving closer, I see my friends. My family. People who know me on a personal level see someone they can confide in. Someone who cares about them who’s willing to help where needed. If someone needs advice, a helping hand, an open ear, or a shoulder to cry on, they know I’ll be there for them. I can make a difference in those peoples’ lives. I can, when called upon, be the light in someone’s darkest times. There’s a reason the people who associate with me are there.

And now we’ve reached home. This is where I lose track of my purpose. Perhaps that’s a sign that I need to get out more. I sit at home, I play some video games, listen to music, do a couple chores here and there…. Not a very fulfilling lifestyle. I feel like I’m unneeded, and sometimes even unwanted here. Maybe my purpose has yet to be revealed. Maybe I don’t have one. This is something I’ll really need to think about. Perhaps it’s time to make change.

And so we’ve reached the end of our trip. My inner self. My sanctum. I’m hesitant to write much about this. But it’s something I’ll have to get used to doing. I’m not a very open person. I hide pain behind a wall of joy and smiles. I show people the me that I want them to see. Am I a happy person? I don’t know. I bottle up negative emotions until I can hardly stand it. Blowing off steam isn’t something I’ve every been good at. I’ve called myself an emotional time bomb before. I’d probably hold to that now.

Sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. I feel like nothing would change in the world if I wasn’t here. No, I’m not saying suicide, I’m thinking multiverse. Somewhere, there’s a universe that unfolded in exactly the same way this one did, just without my existence. And you know what I think? I think it would be exactly the same, with someone else in my place. Another person at my job, living in my apartment, writing this blog to organize their thoughts.

I guess in the long run, I don’t have a purpose on my own. I’m not meant to be reclusive, to hide away from the world. Being alone is something I’m not very good at anyway. I need to get out there, I need to make friends. Being in a crowded place with friendly new faces to meet is what brings me happiness and gives me hope. I need society to help me stay sane. I need to be one with the community, and only once I’ve accomplished that will I find my purpose. My life has shaped me into who I am. Now I just need to find the place where I fit.


To whom it may concern.

I’ve done nothing but try and make things work. You say you want to start over and make things right. You say you want us to be what we once were. Yet you ignore the effort I put into it. I try to join you, I ask you to participate, you blow me off. Starting over in a relationship implies there’s still a relationship between us, but you don’t seem to see how one-sided it is.

You shy away at my slightest touch. You won’t hold me, you won’t sit with me to watch a show or play a game. But when it comes to them, and you know to whom I refer, you show no hesitation in laying on their shoulders, sleeping with your head nestled into their chests. That does not fix a relationship.

How much can you truly mean when you say you love me? Are you leading me on, playing games with my emotions? Was he right when he said I’m just your new toy that you’d so quickly grow weary of? I feel almost cheated out of months of my life; months in which I’ve done nothing but sacrifice time and energy to ensure your health, your comfort, and your happiness. And now you treat my efforts as though they were nothing, showing not a single shred of appreciation.

I try to explain how I feel, but each word that I speak, you shoot down. You try to rationalize your blind and selfish deeds by shoving your past relationships down my throat. I am in no way attempting to control you through what I say, but you always find a way to make it sound as if I’m threatening you with words that never pass my lips. Just because I show concern does not mean I’m tearing you down. It simply means I’d like to talk. To overcome these obstacles that lay before us. But you’re too blind to see. You’re too convinced my every action, every word, is made with ill intent.

Harsh Revelation

I don’t know what I did, where I went wrong, but everything is falling apart at the seams. According to her, I’m an uncaring, self-righteous asshole who thinks of nothing but himself. All I’ve tried to do is make things work. I take care of her to the best of my ability. When she wants to go somewhere, I put my life on pause and we go. When she wants food, I make what she asks for. I clean. I work. I’m even searching for a better paying job so I can support the both of us.

Am I a fool? Am I being used? I sure as hell feel like it. I give my undying love on a day to day basis, with no apparent reciprocation. Every day we drift further apart. She sleeps in a different room. She has for almost a month now. Won’t even spend 10 minutes in the same room to talk, or cuddle, or do anything to actually help support our supposed “relationship”. She is, however, fine with sleeping in that room with another man not 5 feet from her. Am I too loveblind to see what’s happening right in front of my eyes? Perhaps I’m being paranoid, But I fear the worst; and she won’t listen to a word I say when I try to explain why.

By nature I’m a caring person who tries to help others in any way I can, with or without compensation. I’m also prone to bottling up emotions to the point where it’s detrimental to my own health. The combination of those two traits is beginning to take its’ toll on me. My heart is in shambles, my soul is hanging by a thread. I’ve been trod on for far longer than I should ever have put up with. But without the capacity to express my feelings, save for by medium of writing, I’m unable to put a stop to it.

Perhaps this passage is nothing but the petty rambling of one whose problems are insignificant; perhaps it’s a cry for help. If it turns out to be the latter, I only hope my plea reaches the right ears. I hope to find a constructive outlet, a helping hand, or a friend who can show the compassion I need to make it through another lonely, painful day.