15 september

it's not about optimism or pessimism. it's not about glasses half full. it's not about thinking things will turn out okay, or not okay, in the end. it's not about the end at all. it's about the now, the right-fucking-now, and a person can only be in one place at one time, so the now is here. here is now. this is it. there is no other reality, there is only here and there is only now. the past is memory and the future is imagination. the only reality is the present, and it is dying with each tick of the clock. gone. gone. another moment gone. it's not about heaven or hell. it's not about people or places. it's not about thinking or moving or doing. my heart has gone numb like an arm slept on wrong, it's just gone all numb so when i touch it, i can only feel it from the outside like it is someone else's arm, someone else's heart. i can touch it and feel it and know it is there but it won't move. it is like a dead thing, disconnected, useless. it's not about optimism or pessimism. it is about knowing the pain will come when the blood starts flowing again and wondering if the pain is what is killing me or the pain is what is keeping me alive.