Martinus

HUGE PHILOSOPHIC TEXT INCOMING.

I mainly wrote this text for myself to cope with some things. But I think it's rather interesting what came out of it and so I will not be afraid to share it. Writing is still art. Art doesn't have a shape. Art is an expression.

 

-deep breath-

 

 

Feeling alone is probably the most relatable feeling to all of us, though yet we still feel alone in the emotion.

Isn't that ironic? Because that makes us not alone? 

 

Isn't love just the same? We feel loved when others love us but that doesn't mean we're actually loved.

We only love ourselves at the moment we're loved by others. Or do I miss something here?

Some of us keep fighting and fighting, that we forget what we're fighting for.

That we don't even know why we're fighting.

 

We fight against loneliness but end up alone? 

I'm asking myself right now, why am I fighting? 

For myself?

But am I actually fighting for myself? Or do I simply believe

I fight for somebody I believe who is Me, but actually isn't Me?

What if I surrender, perhaps I will meet Me?

What if Me is a concept that actually doesn't exist?

 

-

 

I finally learned to drop my facade and show myself to the ones that seemingly cared for me. I thought they cared for me because they told me ''I care for you''. I could finally open up my heart and learn to love, as others loved me. It gave me a sense of security. I felt loved and strong. My passion and personality inspired others.

 

But that never was love. What I felt, was what I was told that love was. A concept Imprinted into my brain by society, or the concept of love I could see around me.

 

When Individuals got close to me they learn that all these strengths have their weaknesses. Things they can't comprehend, things that I can't comprehend myself. They worked themselves into a situation and failed to see my smile again and now they left. When I truly needed them because my heart was aching, they weren't here for me. They couldn't see it. My heart felt butchered and so I stopped letting others in for years to come. My perception of people was changing. My emotions became black and white. You stay or you leave.

 

I'll drop you, because that's easier than being left.

Despite, I've never dropped anybody.

Not once in my life. Always another chance.

Yet I got dropped.

 

Perhaps somebody did get dropped by me, 

but I don't know?

 

 

-

 

Wether they left me doesn't matter anymore...

because I'm too harsh,

because I'm honest and direct,

because they got what they needed,

because they learned what they wanted to learn from me,

because they had to worry about themselves,

because I'm actually not all smiles and sunshine,

I don't know?

 

Is it just human nature to move on, or am I alien in that regard?

Am I sick? Does it make me sick when I'm simply tainted by daily life?

Am I sick for still loving those who no longer think about me? Does that make me weak?

Am I sick for losing control over myself? Am I to blame for that? Or are others to blame for developing Me?

Why would I blame? That isn't going to change anything? They might not even know what's bugging Me.

 

I feel like whenever I lose my strong self I lose those around Me.

But did I really falter? Isn't showing weakness and emotion a strength? Willing to move and evolve?

I believe that if we dare to share our emotions, that means we love eachother and that we care.

If you read my novel to this far then that means you love me somehow.

We're somehow connected, and that is so amazing. There's a chance you and I didn't even meet before.

 

I will do my best to live through with these thoughts and keep them closest to my heart.

Because my own self is all I have. I hope it will not fail Me.