"Hey, how are you?", I am often asked.
See also Committed to Death, maybe.
I don't know. I just don't know. I don't care anymore. It doesn't matter.
I've lived my entire life with mixed feeling of innocent and sincere hope balanced with indifference and apathy. Both of these are cowed by a sense of distant and still overwhelming apprehension.
I feel that I have within me things which demand expression.. things I think, things I know, things I Am. I am gnawed at every moment of every day of my pointless existence. Utter despair is but a shadow in comparison to that Hunger. It shall follow me into forever, well beyond the death of the universes.
I have no way of truly knowing who or what I am. I'll never know what existence is for. Others may say it, but their words fall on a deaf heart. Words have no value.. they are unfilling. I don't know what I'm doing, and I can't know how well I'm doing. I've been searching all my life for some sort of perspective.. a scoreboard.
Dogged forever, at some point a person will break. They will break or they will be broken. Or perhaps they will harden to the task. Their heart will be tempered when they set aside their fear, when they stop flight to turn and face their enemy.. to look it in the eye.. to stare it down and fight unto the bitter end.
I am consoled with the thought that there is no scoreboard. I stopped searching for it. Now it is I who hunts the Fear.
How am I? I don't know. All I know is that every day I face the enemy within, bear my teeth and give chase.. watching it flee before my resolve. I feel naught but grim satisfaction.