Nothing About This Life Is Real

And, sometimes, it feels pointless. Yes, I'm sure it does. Some days, it almost feels uncomfortable to be human. Looking outward sheepishly, taking in the surroundings, I almost gasp to myself, "is this all there is?" 

Surely... The boredom is chemical. Executively dysfunctional, perhaps. Mental, mental, it's all mental.

Mental, mental, she's the mental case, not me. Not me.

Right? 

Fuck.

Maybe.

Nobody hears me here, which confuses me. Why do I need to lasso my community? Why do I need to seek it out? Because she didn't. She tried. Failed. Gave up after the thousandth time. Because, yes, it's not real. None of this preposterous reality makes any sense at all. And the damage... 

The damage done to you is not real anymore, habibi. So why the fuck is my body still reacting to this memory? Why can't I leave? I am 32 years old, not 5 or 4. I don't need to be there. Astral, ethereal, mental, limbo, bulldogshit. All of it is not real. Not even the sensation to the unreal memory. 

Then, why does it feel so? 

 

 

 

To scare you.

Torment you.

Challenge you.

Invite you.

The bony finger of your shadow beckons you here.

Down

Down

down here.

"Don't run," my shadow pleads. "I'm not so scary. Trust me." 

"Are you... safe?" I ask, already knowing.

"Nobody is safe here when it all ends in death," shadow replied.

Shadow's got a point, that's for sure. 

"When will I die?" I ask.

"Tomorrow," it replies.

"Huh." I say curtly.

"Then you'll die again in many more ways. You will never stop dying. You will never stop failing. Because even a fitness coach knows that failure is the goal if you want to gain muscle. Reaching the limit with your strength and then pushing just a bit more- that's the goal. Growth is the byproduct. Money is the byproduct of failure, not success. Because to succeed means you have failed so many times and learned so many things, that the success you receive is simply the byproduct of consistently showing up, even though you felt foolish and dejected. Resilience is that half rep of a bicep curl after 50 reps with 15 lb dumbells. Those first 50 were the learned behaviors due to discipline. 50½ is the win."

That's so stupid, but so deep, I think to myself. All you need is a little drop extra effort on top of the 100%. Not a million dollars. But 50¢ is doable, right? A few dollars? Surely this is not the start, but the continuation.