Whispers of the Unseen

This routine of mine was never destined to endure indefinitely, but its advantages and disadvantages have played a pivotal role in shaping who I am today and who I'll become in the near future. Reflecting on the past, I observe a profound transformation, both physically and mentally. The nuances of this routine have sculpted my character, altering not only my external demeanor but also influencing the intricacies of my thoughts and personality. It's fascinating to witness how I've evolved from the person I once was to the individual I am now, owing much to the experiences, challenges, and lessons embedded in the fabric of this routine.

Perhaps, you might label me a lunatic, but I remain indifferent to the opinions of others. It's true; I've adopted new habits, but they were short-lived, lasting only about half a year. Now, I find myself transformed into an insomniac—a seemingly mundane presence in anyone's life, a reality that occasionally resonates with my own perception.

Once, this mortal mind harbored numerous unanswered questions, yet time has brought forth answers. Admittedly, there are still lingering uncertainties, but I confess: I've become the solitary lunatic, the sole jester in this intricate tapestry of life.

What if I were to attempt to revert to what society deems as "normal," or was I ever truly normal when I was blissfully unaware of the world around me? I find a certain comfort in my current place, and perhaps, I should persist in this routine. However, with a twist—introducing restrictions and rules, self-imposed for my own well-being. It's not a pursuit of living simply for the sake of living; rather, it's a deliberate choice to continue because I am averse to the idea of dying.

My only true well-wisher is myself, with no reliance on a higher power or any other being. I understand that I must face the consequences already written in the script of my life, bearing the punishment that destiny has deemed for me.

To meet my demise at the precise moment and location ordained by the divine being we reverently call The Holy God is a concept ingrained in our beliefs. We pray to Him, seeking forgiveness from the Lord, the singular superpower governing this vast universe. The Almighty, bearing numerous names too intricate to fathom, is attributed with omniscience and omnipresence, though His visage remains unseen by mortal eyes.

He exists beyond the reach of many, and communication with Him is a privilege not granted to all. Despite these limitations, we persist in our faith, acknowledging The Holy God as the paramount force guiding our destinies. In awe of His omniscient nature, we navigate our lives with the understanding that our ultimate fate lies in the hands of this divine entity.

Acknowledging the necessity to live according to His conditions, I find myself inclined to seek exceptions, as has been my inclination. Prepared for the consequences, I've chosen not to obediently adhere to every directive, exercising the choice bestowed upon me. Perhaps, in deviating from His orders, my destined punishment awaits—a potential sentence of hundreds or thousands of years in hell.

Yet, I ponder, is this infernal suffering more agonizing than the trials and tribulations of life? In contemplating the magnitude of such a punishment, I grapple with the comparative weight of enduring the complexities of mortal existence.

Alright, it's time to re-enter the realm of my mortal existence. While I, as a mortal, am subject to the passage of time, words possess a certain immortality. As the clock ticks on, I reflect on my life—a period marked by either blissful ignorance or, perhaps more accurately, a state of immature understanding.

In that bygone era, I deemed myself the happiest person alive, or was it merely a facade I crafted? The elusive concept of happiness was something I may have sought in that chapter of my life, but the pursuit is no longer a priority. Whether I was genuinely content or merely pretending remains a mystery, and I've come to accept that the true nature of happiness may forever elude my understanding.

My countenance was adorned with a smile, a telltale sign of my emotions—anger, sadness, all laid bare for anyone observant enough. Reflecting on those seemingly futile expressions, I now find myself smiling at their absurdity. Recently, I indulged in the purchase of a laptop, which, interestingly, proved to be both a worthwhile and a time-wasting endeavor. Perhaps, subconsciously, I desired to lose myself in the digital realm.

Days turned into a continuous loop around the glow of the screen. Surprisingly, my nights lacked dreams, and the days were spared from the intrusion of unnecessary thoughts. In this peculiar dance between reality and the digital landscape, time seemed to slip away, leaving me in a state of both satisfaction and contemplation.

Despite the demands of my studies, I consistently found moments to escape into the realm of my imagination. Intriguingly, the captivating presence of the young lady was gradually fading, evolving into a mere memory within the fabric of my creative musings. It wasn't due to her absence in reality; she existed there, just not within the confines of my life.

The prospect of reaching out to her, of asking her to hold my hand, lingered in the background. However, this endeavor required patience—a willingness to wait until I could align the threads of my own reality with the personality I had cultivated within my imaginative world. In this intricate dance between the tangible and the fantastical, the boundaries between the two realms blurred, and I found myself navigating the delicate balance between existence and creation.

Impatience coursed through my veins, yet I exhibited a remarkable display of patience. Surrendering her to the currents of time didn't inflict even the slightest sting. Strangely, as I maintained a facade of smiles in the company of others, the solitude or the perceived loneliness triggered a surge of frustration. In those moments alone, an inexplicable yearning emerged—an intense desire for someone to tear my heart from my chest, for my brain to burst, leaving me devoid of thought and sensation.

The mental turmoil escalated, leaving me grappling with an undefined emptiness. A palpable absence lingered, a yearning for something or someone that eluded my comprehension. The void within me begged the question: what was it that I was truly missing?