I've sat here this week questioning why I'm still here and I can't find an answer that satisfies. I wait for scraps to come my way, but I'm so empty I can barely move towards them if they do. It's draining, trying to make sense of my existence; anyone's existence. Living is a selfish act.
4 comments:
But, for those that must ask these questions, it is better to question and feel alive than to refuse the desire to enquire and feel life has no purpose.
Thanks for your blog. I will return often :-)
Thanks Rob. I admit to wrestling with such questions on a daily basis of late, and from the pain in the chest that it causes me I'd say it definitely makes me feel alive!!
For 6 weeks, elsewhere, this happened to me. It is still ongoing. As for the pain in your chest, I share that characteristic also. I fear it may be my heart shrivelling up and dying.
Hello Ariel, thanks for coming by. My doctors prescribe Lorazepam and a whole host of other chemical 'happiness' for shrivelling hearts. As for trying to make sense of it all, there just isn't any, so best make up for it by eating bucket loads of chocolate. You take care. x
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