Emoticon

21.8.2009


To this date, this is the saddest and most defining moment of my life. One week before my birthday, a friend of five years passed on. What can I say? What can I feel? I guess I'm trying to get some closure from this, and I hope nobody reads this; nobody in the sense that I'm not blindly going into the gallows. It is in these times that our true natures cannot be hidden, and people will notice. What can I say, I tried my best to only let a bit of emotion show, for a brief period of time. Undoubtedly this doesn't solve anything; it is like treating the wound but not the disease. Pure, unadulterated, unconscious, the feeling of being lost is overwhelming. One cannot possibly understand the feeling of lost until something precious is lost. It is as though that this is one of life's tests; testing us how we react, testing like it always does. Nevertheless some around me felt it as well; though I tried to hide it it was like a crack in a fortress-no crack in a fortress may be accounted insignificant. As time passed on, as the days passed, trying to hide it is easier as one runs away from the true feeling of being lost. Internally lost, it is this that begins to define us to be human. Selfish like the humans we are, we try to hold on to everything we value, yet do we value what others value? It can thus be said that from such events, we well and truly learn what friends and friendship really means. The feeling of lost-not knowing what to do, not knowing how to react, not knowing why it was him, the feeling of not knowing leads us off the path of life and we become lost, almost locking up our hearts, supressing everything that we live for. The vigour of life, happiness, is lost. Without it, we are mere slaves to ourselves, dragging ourselves through life as time progresses. Indeed, time. Time moves on, it is ever-changing and through the passing of such times we may truly find ourselves empty. The emptiness is what makes us lost; as life empties itself we aimlessly wander through life. But it is during these times where we may find the key to our heart's locks. Humour is not happiness, and happiness is not humour, yet there are those that we meet, those that meet us. Through the countless generations, the billions of humans, not to forget the chance of meeting them, they are the kind of people who pull us back to reality unknowingly. Unwittingly, they may or may not be friends, yet it is the feeling that there are things to be lived for, and such people are to be remembered forever, whether or not time divides us.