tinhuviel | Passionless (Reply)

In the past few months, I've come to the realisation that my passion for everything in this world adds up to exactly zero. I've long had a litmus test that, if there was a song - most-usually something from Shriekback - that has yet to be heard, or a movie or book that has not been released, that I find myself even remotely anticipating, there was still something left for me to cling to.

There is nothing now.

I just find myself waiting to tie up loose ends so I can exit an existence that holds no joy, much less any shred of solace or resolve. I'm waiting to vote in November, and I'm waiting for Toby, who is old and in poor health, and whom I cannot take to the doctor, to (hopefully) pass as peacefully and painlessly as possible.

The world is meant for worthier souls, for those who have something, anything, to contribute. I'm told in a myriad of ways that I am a redundancy. I don't give a shit what others think of me. I thumb my nose at those who believe the world would be better off without me and those like me; however, I am not a fan of discomfort and joylessness.

Thanks to botched dentures, I've eaten nothing but cottage cheese and mashed potatoes for three years. My insomnia is as bad as ever, Aunt Tudi's voice loud and in my face every night. There's no position I can get in that allows me a modicum of physical comfort. My seizures are now affecting my bladder and bowels. Everything bores me. The only emotion I can honestly say I can easily identify is rage, which is no way to live.

Everyone deserves at least a little bit of peace in their lives. And everyone has a right to pursue that peace in the manner afforded them. If another tries to take that away, what kind of monster is s/he? Sometimes, the highest expression of love and respect is honouring the needs of their friends and family. Do you have that kind of honour, or are you as selfish as almost every other human?