Why

There is no doubt simpler, yet somehow more complicated, than why. A single word, sketched into your subconscious, torturing you and threatening to bring out what you have spent your entire existence running from. A question so banal yet buried so profound in your soul; suffocated by the demons who have taken over, running amok and wreaking havoc in your thoughts.

You try to push them aside, ignoring the constant hassle of their harping. You listen to them, succumbing to the false sense of security they give. Whether one or the other, the doubt remains: why, so distant and feeble that though it never ceases you are never able to truly access it.You realize you’re swimming in pointlessness, losing yourself in oceans of nothing. Yet, somehow, you still let the demons take over. Why?

The answer is fear. Fear of who you truly are, fear that if you let them go, none of who you are will be left. It isn’t sufficient, you know there’s more. Despair maybe? No. You feel despair, are haunted by it. It is not why, it is the opposite; the very consequence of the demons and essence of their existence. Why? Why choose such a miserable condition?

The flickering light of rationality is screaming, trying to warn you that you’re making a terrible mistake. As you reach out to it, it becomes more and more feeble, ceasing to exist. As you delve deeper into the ocean of pointlessness, you realize you’re drowning; gasping for air, water fills your lungs. Yet, you can’t let go, for some reason unable to swim to the surface.

Why? What are you running away from? 

Dysfunctional Girl