A Depressed Rant

I am sitting in my post-final-exam-mess of a room. The window is open and the only sounds are that of the birds chirping outside my window and the sound of the keys as I type away on my laptop. The rest of the house is asleep. I woke up too early this morning and after having ice cream and a cup of tea I retired to my study room (which is technically a bed room but I can never sleep there on account of my bed being taken over with AP Biology notes) It’s only been an hour since I woke up. The sun has barely begun to cast it’s light into my room. The window is open in an attempt to lure in a non existing breeze. I like the clean smell of air that permeates the mosquito screen. The whole city is yet asleep and you can almost hear the breaking of the waves on the nearby beach. I want to go up to the roof where I won’t be afraid to make noise and where I will be able to watch the turquoise and blue depths of the sea. But for now, I satisfy myself with the songs of the birds outside my window and the rhythmic tapping of the keys on my laptop
I seem to have lost all interest in studying or reading or any other activity that doesn’t include sitting on my ass with a gormless expression on my face. It feels as though I have lost all incentive, all sense of perseverance and have now lapsed into a sort of passive existence.
I exist, but to no purpose.
I exist, but will serve no purpose.
I exist, but would not be missed if I didn’t.
I long for books that can take me away but I can not find anything that would keep me entertained. The Shakespeare that I used to love tires me as I try to find the hidden meanings and interpret the English from the Elizabethan era to that modern dialect which we speak today. Even Orwell brings no comfort. 1984 is far too much like my own life for me to enjoy it – It frightens me as it seems to depict the natural progression of my current circumstances.
My life has no purpose but I continue to exist.
I used to want to become a doctor and a part of me still does. But I feel that that path is a never ending one, One on which I would continually have to prove myself to other people and I am tiring of having to do that. The challenge used to be appealing, it was the one profession which I thought could satisfy my incessant curiosity. My continual need for knowledge. That need has been sucked out of me and all that remains is the lifeless shell of a once passionate being.
I have no clue what I am going to do with my life. I hold on only because I know that after death there is no other sense of existence. I will not be reincarnated, I will not go to heaven nor will I go to hell. I will rot and decompose and will provide food for maggots and worms – it seems that my death would have a purpose even if my life didn’t. I hold on because I feel that it would be a gigantic loss of potential. How can someone who used to have such high hopes and aspirations be reduced to nothing? Can all that be gone? No, I believe it is still there, that essence and fire is still in me. For the time being it has been smothered by the horrors which I have seen and can not bear to witness anymore. But  I know that if I were to survive, just to overcome this trying time and come out of it sane of mind and whole of body, then I could regain my former glory and aspire and reach all that I now feel is impossible.
I can change
I can change
I can change
But I am here in my mode


But I still want to go study abroad. I want to get away and begin a new life and taste things that I have never heard of before and see all that which I had dreamed of and hear the sounds of new birds outside my bedroom window. And perhaps a cool breeze would deign to enter my room and bring with it not the smell of sweet sea salt but the beautiful, earthy, crisp clean scents of the highlands and the musky smell of the sheep grazing on the grass and hear the snorts of the wild boar and smell the truffles and smell the jasmine and see the vibrant yellow of mimosas in spring and feel the piercing cold of the snow on the faraway mountain and smell the ‘khorvaz’ the vendors are selling on the main street. And with all that, the sound of silence. Still, as though the whole universe came to a standstill and I was the only one aware of the majesty of the Earth and she decided to stop, just for a second so that I might see her clearly.
I close my eyes and imagine it all. I imagine being swept away to faraway lands and belonging. Just belonging to something and being an integral part of it. To not be the odd one out, or the one who is considered eccentric or Emo or Goth or depressed or ugly or fat or too tall or weird for liking to read or sad for caring about the world or stupid for not believing in God or manic for obsessing about grammar or ridiculous for believing things that others do not want to acknowledge.
I want to get away
I want to fly away
Fly with the birds outside my window
Be free an uninhibited
To not have to hide what I believe in or listen to the stupid cunts who rule my life and who, with a single spoken word, can bring all I aspire to be crashing down. Those who, with a single signature, can destroy the future which I have furtively dreamed of and planned out with the greatest care. That future in which I might do more than exist. That future in which all my efforts pay off and I have a purpose.