i viciously snuffed out hope

⋆ ⱼₐₙᵤₐᵣᵧ ₂₃ ₂₀₂₅

There's a ticking clock in my head that never lands on an exact number. Once it seems close to landing on a number, it thwarts expectation yet keeps moving. I grew up under the impression that's not how clocks work. If this isn't suppose to happen, then this wasn't suppose to exist. How could something nonsensical be a core part of who I am? Who decided it was nonsensical? That meaningless little clock.

I've been dying every night lately. Everyday is another act of wrathful tantra. Every demonic revelation is another disillusionment. I've been going through this for weeks now. I feel like I'm caught in a loop that I'm not sure I'll survive. This is the part of self discovery that feels like walking on glass. The part where you realize the desire for transformation can't be an act of self hate. I feel like I've been deceiving myself that I was never the person I always was. I'm writing this as if I haven't been in this place before. I've been poisoning myself since I was a kid.

I've only ever known this path to extinction. I doubt I'm the only one. Waiting for things to fall into place for you to be the person you're supposed to be. Once I make enough money, once I buy those clothes, once I have enough followers, once I have enough friends. When things are enough, I'll finally be enough. Wasn't the person I'm becoming supposed to be the person I am? I wonder if it solely capitalism that persuades us into this or if it's something deeper, more insidious. Someone put a clock in my head and I couldn't remember who.

Then I remembered who, it was hope.

Hope was killing me so I killed it first. It couldn't exist without my despair. The two have always been working together. To look at one, I had to compare it to the other. The two convinced me they were separate, an angel and devil sitting on my shoulders. I was never going to be able to chase hope without submerging myself deeper into despair. When I realized that, I killed my hope without hesitation and my despair followed.

If I could kill it again I would. Now I have to figure out a hopeless life looks like. No regrets. There is no wasted time.