Re-posting this entry I made two years ago. I can’t recall enough what was happening at that moment when I was doing this post. Whatever it was, it must have been a struggle because this entry turned out to be quite poignant and raw. Also, pa-deep of me.
Sometimes, there is this sudden feeling that you need to freeze the NOW. It’s this certain urgency to press the STOP button of the remote control of the Universe. Every single unit that surrounds you seems to be in a fast-forward state and you can’t keep up. It’s when everything is such a rush that you don’t actually have a grip on reality anymore. And yourself. You feel like you’re falling into a rabbit hole like poor Alice. Only that you already know that there aren’t going to be fancy characters when you start to wander off. You are drowning in the noise of drawling voices around you. You walk beside the PRESENT when after a second of visiting your mind, the Present is leaving you behind. You start to walk briskly, looking after the trail, but in a blink of an eye, the gushing wind obliterated the only traces of hope and your sanity.
You scream. Only in your mind. Your face shows no sign of chaos that are flooding your veins, poisoning you gradually. You tend to utter a word. You change your mind. You only think of two words now: Shut Down. You blackout. You force yourself to forget even the sense of time. You play apathy around you. Your ears are blocked and so are your eyes. You filter what you see. You only use your eyes for the sole reason of surviving the day. The rest, you don’t care. You don’t appreciate anything; you don’t process any thinking either. You play dumb. You ditch humanity at this moment.
You start to question everything as if you were only born a minute ago. You don’t understand any social system. You are innocent. You cannot be guilty of anything. You question your existence. You question the existence of the Universe. Most importantly, you question the existence of time. You want to stop it. Time. Are you powerful enough? All you know is that you can’t feel every second that’s ticking by. You want to feel it in your skin. You want to make each one last. You want to keep it. Time. It’s not recyclable. Hell, it’s not even reusable. The only thing you know about it is that it’s always in a hurry. Sometimes, you want to hold hands with it as you amble the street on a gray day. You want it to keep your pace as you mosey around the neighborhood. Maybe, just maybe, you want to stop time even for a minute.
this seat is taken 
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