Fields of Wheat

So today's earlier post was more about random ramblings of my mind--more or less me trying to keep myself from thinking about some things and working hard to concentrate on others. But now I'll change that around a bit and post something that I actually feel is relevant to my life now. Just a brief disclaimer: I'm tired right now, and there's a lot going on, so this may or may not come out the way I imagine it in my mind...actually it probably won't, but that's alright.

At this moment, I just want to walk into the middle of a field of wheat stretching for miles and miles, and lie down in the middle. Nobody would see me, nobody would know I'm there...only if you looked at the strange and faint, barely noticeable depression in the middle of the field would you realize that anything at all was anywhere but where it should be. Pure isolation. In the middle of nowhere. Where the passage of time is measured only by the movement of the sun against the sky and the shadows of the wheat over my face.

Because right now, the last thing I want to deal with is people. I'm willing to talk to them, I'm willing to help them with their problems, but at the same time, I just want to pull away from the world. I just want everything to disappear...or rather, I want to disappear. Things are falling apart, I can't keep anything straight, and I'm exhausted. Or maybe I'm just laying the blame in places where it should not fall and am not capable of dealing with the messes I got myself into...yeah, there most certainly are enough of those to figure out.

And while I don't want to be a burden to people, I just wish somebody would see this, would say something...no, I don't want words. I want someone to do something. I want somebody to know how to make me feel better, if only on occasion. But every time someone manages to do that for me, it always turns out to be a mistake. Every single time, it's turned into a mistake that I look back on and bury my face in my hands because of. That's what it feels like my life has been lately; mistake after mistake after mistake. And here I am, making more mistakes as I go, and I'm completely aware of them, too...but I just don't have the strength to stop them anymore.

Maybe all I need is a little bit of help to get through it all, but whether I'm not willing to reach out for it or if people aren't willing to take my hand, it's not working right now. So here I am, feeling the dread pit of depression appearing in my stomach again, afraid that maybe this time will be the time I crack. Yes, I am afraid. Here I am, look into my eyes and see the fear staring back at you if you dare. But then again, don't bother...because I don't want your pity or your sympathy, I don't want any of it. I'll glare scornfully back at you and silently plead that either you really help me or forget you ever saw anything that I may not be able to hide.

This is my empty declaration to the world. Find me if you dare. I won't say anything if you don't, and I'll probably curse you if you try. Really, I'm offering you an empty journey. Maybe I'm just hoping that somebody will read this and finally understand. But until then, I'll be entertained by the bitter irony of my own demise and calmly stand back, watching myself fall over the edge. Because really, what could be more exhilarating than watching the world crumble to pieces...beautiful in the most terrible of ways, is it not? And this is why I love the twisted chaos of life.