I have lost it. I am trapped in this bubble of mine, where the world passes by, like a picture. I bang on my noiseless walls, suffocating in the depth of my own thoughts. I am caught, forever. I might dream and dream of getting out, of touching the wet soil, of feeling the rain drop on my cheek, but no, I shall not have it. This bubble that I built for myself shall be my doom. A perfect case of plastic for my frozen soul.

I do not like things beautiful. I do not like things wise. I hate women, I hate men more. The whole world and its smiles seems hypocritical to me. I fail to see that I am the biggest hypocrite of all. I smile where I do not want to, I cry to show off that I am sensitive. Tomorrow, when ‘being sensitive’ is no longer fashionable, I shall go back to my devil-may-care attitude. I will then laugh at the wounded, mock the weak.

I buy my smiles by the dozen, from the shopkeeper round the corner. He gives me smiles. I shall start buying my tears too, for nothing affects me. Good, bad, happiness, sorrow- they all look the same to me. I am stuck in my bubble, forever.

Music fails to move me; literature weaves no magical spell over me. I no longer look up to heroes. I no longer want to strive for a better life. The bubble, which I built, and wanted to keep beautiful, reeks of the old, of rubbish. All the trash that I have collected over the years. I cannot get out. Maybe I do not want to. I am stubborn. I refuse to listen. I am going deaf and blind with each passing day.

Deaf to nice words and blind to reality, I do not appreciate help. I crave loneliness and want to be shunned by the others. I want to see people’s hatred for me. I want them to kick me, to call me names. Hypocrisy should not be encouraged.

I want others to push me away, to be absolutely repelled by the sight of me. For that is what I give others. I want to die after being flogged mercilessly. Isn’t that the best punishment for someone who refuses to see beauty? Isn’t that the answer for all the hatred and coldness I distribute? I am cowardly, hypocritical and unfeeling.

I am ashamed to face others. I am not nice like them. I am not conscientious, nor helpful. I shirk my responsibilities. I want to bury my face in the sand like the ostrich. Only my action is not as utilitarian. My life does not aim for anything beautiful, or useful. I am pathetic. A hollow existence in a useless body. Rotten from within, and without.

I am stuck in my bubble, forever. Let me suffer.


7 thoughts on “Frozen…

  1. Frozen objects melt in fire. Hypocrisy melts in fire. Falseness, ennui, idleness everything melts in fire. Beauty is born out of fire. Truth is born out of fire. Courage, purpose everything is born out of fire. Anything that passes through fire comes pure and beautiful. Are you willing to wait for the fire to come and make you pure and truth?

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