an ocean heart

I’m trying to grasp at something - a feeling, a word, an impulse - something that might unfold a path before me, something, anything to get me going, to stop me from standing stock still at this static black hole of a void that is memyinsidesmylife, all-that-ever-has-been. But it’s too late or perhaps too soon, for these are either slow or passing things that I can’t seem to ever be able to catch. And besides, it’s too hot, I feel warmth flooding right through me, soon burning-the-pores-of-my-skin-turning-my-lungs-to-an-oven-making-me-breathe-heavily. Though I know this shall pass too for this is the first glimpse of the prologue of the start of The Decaying of my Body; The End of Me. Nevermind the first part of this two-piece tragedy - ah but now, here, even this is lost to me; this thought that only leads to ruin. For I am failing to grasp and stay and take root for I am restless yet standing-stock-still-staying-taking-root-at-this-black-hole-of-my-life (seems I can only grasp at things that lead to ruin; dying and too-soon-passing things). Everything is lost to me and then found and then lost to me again. Fleeting, passing, never staying. Everything is misplaced, ill-fitted, alien. Even my glasses have seemed to outgrow me or perhaps it is me who has changed.

(how can I keep my composure how can I keep my composurehowcanIkeepmy composurehowcanIkeepmycomposurehowcanIkeepmycomposure)

But the truth is I can. I can keep my composure, balance, my ground. For I fail to keep my grasp even on ruining things, now. It seems not a single path unfolds before me before long ending up in the-dead-end-that-magically-appears-out-of-thin-air.
I'm just here. I'm just standing here in the middle of a crossroad. Not even stuck on my former path because even that, is gone. I am a passive thing lost amidst always-passing things. I might have turned to a traffic cone, for all I know. (That would make a lot of sense.) Ah well, somehow - very strangely - I'm quite happy nonetheless. I'm happy even thought I know that if I let things stay as they are I will start spiralling towards My End sooner than expected. Perhaps I want to, perhaps I don't care - perhaps it's just that I'm way too comfortable with living a quiet, modest life filled only with remaining indoors 24/7 reading books and playing videogames to even try and change it to what could be better. Because could-be is not enough for me to rid of this comfort and take a risk. That is all.