No Backspace


I’m still alive. Whatever that means. I’ve typed, held the backspace until my ideas disappear, and typed again. Forcing the little caret back and forth across my screen in a futile manner, looking for some way to describe how I feel.

Been doing this for more than a year now. Not posted anything. Just typing and untyping. Made a promise to myself that no matter what I type today will be published. No undoing. No backspacing.

The most pressing thought in my mind at the moment is how opposing our minds can be. We can be sad without reason. As if the universe expects us to be happy without reason. We can love and hate in the same moment, both feelings having the same target. We can yearn for something and never take action. We can speak one thing and do another. We can wish for something for a lifetime — and when finally achieving that goal suddenly we don’t know how to react. We can be hurt by someone in a moment, take a moment to process the pain, then in the next moment deflect the hurt on someone else we love.

Do we have this disposition because we are constantly pretending? Are we hiding our true feelings because they are the little pieces of ourselves that this cruel reality cannot take away? And is that why we sometimes feel opposing currents, as if your real self feels disgust while your mask “feels” satisfaction?

I don’t have the answers. Just an observer’s notes. So many thoughts and words buzzing in my head that I want to explore, but none are concrete. “worth”, “happiness”, “meaning” are a few. Don’t know why my mind goes here and get’s stuck. But maybe my paper rantings will help get me out.

Thank you for reading and following along.

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