To Float, To Die
I wish I could die. I wish I could float off to outer space. How beautiful would that be? How perfect. To simply float off into the endless, sky-less, star-full obscurity of space, into its undisturbable silence, and to slowly float away. To die in the floating stillness of space. Surrounded by the darkness, the emptiness, the loneliness, the vast immensity of endless silence.
If I could die, I would. I want to feel peace. Again, that silence, that lack of annoying light crawling into my eyes like spiders, that lack of gravity pulling me down like chains. I just want to float freely. I don't want to be this heavy. I don't want to feel the burden of having to carry my body around all the time. I don't want this pressure on my chest. My soul weighs too much, and I want to let go of it now. I want to transform. I want to feel free. Forever liberated. I hate having to live with this constant load on my shoulders, which only weighs more and more with each day that goes by. I'm reaching a breaking point now. Just adding another thought would make it unbearable and I would fall.
I want to float away. I want to be lighter than a feather in zero gravity. I want to be lightest, thinnest, most transparent. I want to be air. No, not air. I want to be that nothing which so freely, so effortlessly and emptily, just nothings around outer space. It's not even there, but it is because I'm talking about it. It's nothing, but it's free. It occupies no space, and yet it occupies all the unoccupied space of the universe. I want to be that. I want to be free. I want to float off into space and become a part of that. Become nothing and become free. I want silence, I want darkness, emptiness. I want peace.
I wish I could close my eyes and die. Let my body sleep forever, while my soul goes off into outer space and becomes the free-est nothing to ever exist. But breaking free isn't easy. Letting go of a family who loves me, a society that judges me, and a world that breaks me apart. All from which I'd rather escape, but I can't. All from which I'd rather stay miles away, but I can't. It isn't easy to make an earthily body understand that earthily things are silly, that earthily things are mad. It isn't easy to change.
Evolve. Grow. Transition. To go from the life that I've had all my life, to a deep, dark nothing that I've never tried. I thought I wanted to live, but I lied. I tried to let it roll of my back, slide. But it isn't easy to keep standing up. I tried. I'm now giving up, but I tried. I'm now giving up, only to find one more time, that I lied. Because it isn't easy to fly. It isn't easy to die. To this earthily body and soul, the most difficult part is goodbye.
