Enigmatic thoughts

The leaves rustled as my boots, caked in and stained by the dark murky cud that enveloped them. Suffocating and drowning in the trench like mud that the path shouldered, I carried on towards the envisioned escape from the insurgency in my mind's imagination. This was the only way out, the only certain control I had, in a corpse of reality my mind focused on that one phrase, the one curse that shock the very foundations of my conscience being. I can't escape. Repeated again and again, besieged by it, broken down by it, emaciated by it, killed by it. My dog scampered through the roots of a collapsed beech tree, its leaves wilted and rotting, returning into the dirt from whence it grew from. I contemplated each step as it brought me to my desired fate, to end being mindless, spineless and pretend. To burn the mask which had grown from my throat and hands, almost perfectly crafted, covering my face and my face. A facade over my brain, my thoughts, my beliefs. But the cracks began to show, after 4 years the play was going to end and my true self would be released.

The path twisted and turned like the river beside it, a constant sound reminding me that I was still alive. My mind reflected on what I would leave behind, a limp lifeless sack of blood and bones with no choice and no purpose, the existentialism filled my lungs and deflated out into the same questions. Why? What's the point? We are nothing more than quarks, leptons and bosons, interacting through the four fundamental forces of strong interaction, weak interaction, gravity and electromagnetism on the quantum level. Everyone is, everything is, I am no different to the air around me and the ground underneath me. What makes me special? What makes me different? What makes me significant? Nothing does. I'm insignificant. A broken mask covering a broken being.

My parents moulded me to be a follower of their beliefs, to follow their commands, according to their religious views. Fundamentally I didn't believe in a God, to me the idea was completely irrational and irrelevant. I pleaded with them with them that I didn't have the same beliefs as them, but it fell on death ears, being forced to sit every Sunday to the same old ignorant lies again and again. In their eyes I was already going to hell. Their misogynistic, trans-phobic, homophobic, sexist bull-crap would fall on dead ears. The mask that I had portrayed as my own was eating me from the inside, to keep up to their standards on the surface ended up with me dying on the inside. The almost daily mental breakdowns and anxiety attacks expanded the ominous void I felt inside . Falling into darkness, I isolated myself, and antisocial recluse, I held onto anything to slow my fall into the abyss of non-existence, the distractions numbed me from my thoughts to the brink of obsession to relinquish me from my dire fate. I pondered what I would leave behind, a legacy of mediocre.

I stopped, the dog started chasing in vain. A flash of a small fury mess bounded down the track, a natural reaction to its predator. It ran out of sight in the blink of an eye terrified of death. The path drew to an end, with a beech tree, large and elderly, decorated with rope, a length dangled in the breeze back and forth. I stood there in silence. An infestation in my mind's imagination took over, every fibre in my body screamed in fear , the image of my limp lifeless body swinging back and forth in a noose engulfed my mind. I turned and ran, my mind in shock relinquished control of my body, my legs drunk on fear moved on their own. My dog pranced along side, unaware of what I had come to do. My mind reflected on the rabbit, running away from its fears, as I had down, I felt a sense of pleasure at my own weakness, my inability to do anything finally worked for me. The saying that death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit came to mind. Filling me with some sense of a feeling. My heart pounded throughout my whole being, the air crystallising my breath, I slowed down to a walking pace my mind in entropy, made of fear and questions. What did I just do? Why did I run away? My body demanded only to survive, only to live, not questioning why but just doing. A conflict raged in my conscience, everything seeming to contradict its self. My whole body was shaking the fear still burnt deep inside. I returned home, defeated. My only escape, failed, killed, dead. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Oh tell me why I'm broken?