Waiting For Godot.

Everything is red, blood red. The deep hues illuminate the path guiding the way. Through the veil of anonymity, I see the world changing around me. I see the streets in a way I have never understood before. I see art in a light that had never shone on me, for It feels good to know that I have nothing to lose; Nothing to hold onto, no one to harm if I were to fall. 11933469_10156074443950002_3120171318741554959_nI am now my own crash pad, my own soft landing to mask the ascent if I were to drop. I am now my own home.

I was spending so much time taking up residence in others than I learned I was not living for myself. While this statement may confuse some, I am referring to being sole reliant on others opposed to oneself. I found a home in someone who was using me for tenancy…for residency. It has taken time, but I came to the conclusion that I was taking residence in those who could not provide me a home.  

I thought I was stupid. I thought I was the only one making mistakes, for it was not until recently that I realized I was not alone in this journey. I was not stupid in seeing through a blurred lens, for no one is stupid; We see what we want to see and believe what we want to believe.

I was waiting for Godot. Waiting for people who will never come. An omnipresent figure who seems to always be present even when not tangibly there. Through conversation and vocalized means, Godot will always be present. This absurdist play written by Samuel Beckett does depict truth in real-life scenarios. Discussing someone for a long period of time, creates a presence. We always seem to wait and to twiddle our fingers in exhausted desperation yet we never stop to question: Why are we waiting for Godot? Why can’t we escape this? Why can’t we leave Godot?

I had a difficult time in accepting the inevitable end. What do I do? Where do I go? I had no idea what to do when all was through until it hit me: You start up again.

I’m not going to say that it is easy to start from the beginning. I am not going to give you some bullshit metaphor about why you need to have the strength to do this, and I’m not going to lie. It sucks.

I find that the only way to regroup is through a head start. Share your story! Share your thoughts, and let others know why your story is important, for having someone to talk to is a form of therapy much stronger than any medication. To talk and to listen is a trait that is widely appreciated when facing some form of pain. After hearing the stories of others, I began to realize that no matter how alone I currently feel, that will never be the case.

It all falls back to the roots of the poisonous tree. Roots extend miles, and only 80% of the tree is actually seen. Poison can spread where we are not aware…it can seep through the natural fibers and produce fatal results. While this metaphor may be about nature, I hope that you are understanding the true ‘nature’: gossip.

I have found myself obsessing over the artist Halsey. Serenaded by her catchy ballads and lyrics that ring true, I cannot help but think when I listen to her music. Thinking and listening? These two actions do not usually coincide…who thinks when listening to music? It defeats the purpose. To contradict myself, I find it rare to connect to both lyrics and music. To connect and have a song resonate with you throughout the day. Halsey understands the comings and goings of others, and I think that this is what I need to understand as well. (I included this little preamble to explain why I included a link to her song ‘Colors’). 

While I understand that pain can translate into a variety of emotions, I find it difficult to dismiss hurtful words that have been exchanged. I hate when people say to me “why do you care?”  Why do you care about what is being said about you? How could I possibly not care!? How could I switch off the part of me that gives a fuck? The answer is plain and simple: I can’t. I cannot just “stop caring” that is not within my character to do so. While it may be easy for others to dismiss and ignore, I cannot delete someones existence from my life.

It seems to me that living for others is such a futile task. I am done with looking into every post, every modified caption, every block, every ignored action. I think it all comes done to me being sick of reminiscing on memories and choking on lies. Maybe it is the truthful nature of it all, or maybe it was all of the trusting lies. I don’t know what it is, but what I do know is that I have to regroup and evolve. 

How do I do that? I will let you know when I found out. 

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