Hanging
Everyone was staying confined to those narrow mental spaces. And I, like them; I only knew that small world. And everything was goddamn gorgeous. There was passion, challenge, dialogues, workaholism, and satisfaction.
All of that no longer exists. The boundary has widened, unfortunately; it was inevitable.
I tried to go back, but it’s impossible, it doesn’t work. What torments me the most is the fear that in fact, not that there would currently be a vacuum of goals, rather that those are actually there in full force, and that they are the ones I’ve always disavowed but which, due to an involuntary process of growth, have now taken the place of old bullshit. Nothing sparks my curiosity anymore, nothing takes hold of my idea of the world and fills it with that ancient bright light.
I had already wondered how long this state, which I called “fluctuating”, could last. It can occasionally turn into a total abyss, and then spit me back out, but besides that, nothing else happens.