No questions, no answers

I had a strange dream the night before yesterday (maybe it was early morning) in which I saw one of my former friends (by now Ive pushed them all away for good). He was a cool friendly dude back when I knew him and quite healthy as far as I remember. But in this dream he bumped into me at an airport lounge and I was dream shocked at his wasted appearance. His mouth was twisted and spine was crooked. I couldn’t make sense of his impaired speech. Then there was a nonsensical flash back into what had happened to him – he got hit by a police water cannon while street protesting about something. Back to the dream present, I asked him if we eat something in the cafeteria to which he told he can only drink his food as fluids and just turned about and limped away.

At which point I woke up with a heavy feeling of sadness lodged somewhere in my chest. A sense of shame and guilt of having been cruel to good people in my life – a few good, decent people in a world crowded with assholes. I recalled instances when someone had tried to be friends and I had brazenly ignored them because, you know, they be killin my darkaf vibe.

Then I had a bad day at work and felt like just quitting and running away. No matter where, just run away. And keep running until my legs crumpled like rags leaving me to gasp my last in the middle of some desert.

I understand life is short for everyone. I know, despite of their personal troubles, a lot of people manage to turn their lives into beacons of light and hope for others around them. If I could possibly play that part, I’d like to live a thousand years. But there is something irredeemable about this constant tide of sorrow because it tends to spread my gloom out upon the world and I can’t help it. I’ve tried and always failed. It’s as if some gods have written down into the script that so long as I live I’ll keep hurting me and my fellow beings who get too close.