A lonely island

Do you ever wonder what it feels like to be an island left in the middle of the ocean without being touched. You are forgotten, left, and lonely. Ships never pass you. Fish swim away from you, and the trees grow ever bigger. This lonely island is what I think of as depression. Its a compounding, and resounding beating of a lonely island.Which helps invigorate our idea of existential bummers in the world.

If I am a flower, every spring I rise, and every fall I die to be replaced the next spring by a new and prettier flower. Thus, creates the existential bummer in life. All things come to an end. Including the lonely island that will one day sink into the seven hells of the deepest parts of the sea.

“The streets aren’t made for everybody. That’s why they made sidewalks.” –Cookie

How do we conquer our grasp over the existential bummer? Do we cherish each second as if its the last? Do we sink into depression? Do we close ourselves off from anything that holds meaning? No. Some do. But most have risen to the idea if it hasn’t happened yet. Then it won’t happen. Just like our dreams. If we don’t reach them at a certain point then we won’t ever touch the sky.

The existential bummer can be grand to think about or it can be the weapon that fuels depression. The grasp we have of our lonely island can dictate the sway of our choices like the way fish know that nothing comes to a lone island. We learn that the more we are in love there is a higher cost at seeing an end. Thus, people make decisions out of fear.

“Tell me, live inside the moment. What are we waiting for? What the hell are we waiting for? I want to live inside the moment. Tell me, what are we waiting for?” –Jamal and Hakeem, singing “Live in the Moment”

DDepression becomes a fallback option. A seed that routes itself on negativity and grounds itself on an outcome that grips our reality. For some it is a biological choking hazard that makes life feel like a fleeting loss of hope, and for others it is the link from society that constrained them into sinking. There is nothing good to look forward to for either side.

An existential bummer is that these people know that when they die there are people who are going to cry but life will move on as it always does because life does not stop moving.

Suicide has been the talk of an epidemic problem for years now and as a person who witnessed one of my best friends take her’s before New Years I have come to realize just how much of life can fade. People pretend like they understand. It must be pain. It must be unbarring to go through life but sometimes the happiest people one the outside are the ones facing the difficulties of destructive thoughts.

Taking ones life is selfish there is no way around that fact. You can’t keep taking right turns down the road because you will come upon a left turn eventually. But it doesn’t make it any less painful to those of us still alive. However, the existential bummer is that we too will find ourselves in a casket or an URN as well. Might even be wrong to hold disdain to the person who took their own life.

Your Island of lonely can be beautiful but it will be destroyed some day. Just as your pet will one day die, or the flower you plant will die in the fall. This island of yours with its overgrown trees will never touch the sun before it sinks. I’m a consistent victim of my own prison. Visiting this prison like a reoccurring offender. I’m a writer. You would think my thoughts would be prime with a bottle of booze at my side. But I live in a sober prison. But as much as I want my life to end. I want to live which is something most people won’t say.

It changes your perspective about the way we live. You want to change the way people see things. Suicide is an epidemic that society creates as well as a biological prison that is kept up with drugs. We are the sinners of our mind. You can see that it has taken any kind of person from the rich and famous to the poverty stricken. Which means money, and things doesn’t make you happy. It doesn’t fix you. If you were sad without money…you will remain sad with money. Nothing heals a thought.

So I wonder if we start to work on our lonely island that maybe it will bring more people to it, and attract people? It won’t be over grown one day? But still these people will die, and they will fade. Thus, rests the question of why do we live?