Existential Crisis

Chaplain/Rabbi/Priest/Imam

No I dont have a midlife crisis yet. 

But I have another problem. Had I not spoken with family members I would not have realised that I had a problem. 

I have reach just one conclusion about this problem though, particularly after a family member shed some serious light on the matter without him intending to put me in such a reflective mood. Nonetheless it has made me pensieve and the way that I am it is natural for me to annonce to the world. 

So lets begin at the beginning. After some careful thought I have realised that I stopped producing heartfelt deep and intense (no matter how morbid) poetry when I realised that I would soon be losing a pillar of my life and half the shade of my world. Once the pillar crumbled I think and this is my conclusion, that it buried under it a part of me that would encourage me to invest in emotionally in everything from relationships to sports to studies .. to everything. But once that part did get burried, it left me completely indifferent and synical. 

How I see the crumbling of the Pillar. 

Day by day I turn more into Dr. House's synical self (no unfortunately not the genius side). The scary part is that despite acknowledging the problem and accepting, I am still indifferent to it. They say that acknowledging and accepting a problem is the first step towards a solution, thing is a part of me doesnt care the remainder doesnt want to care anymore. 

Its altogether different ball game when I used to wish that I would become the type of skilled genius and indifferent monster that I still look up to ... unfortunately for the world that mentor is actually just a fictional character. But now that I am a step closer, I seem to have given up on the caring part. 

Shura/Chaos - The indifferent monster Yakumo Mutsu

True that there have been quite a few things in my life to set me on this path, but had my thought pattern been different I might have actually been the content self that I put on every morning I wake up. 

No longer do I dream of ruling the martial arts world, nor of becoming a foremost professional in my field. No my dreams are just filled silent screams, darkness, chains and a lot of drowning. 

There are times when I read some of my journal/dairy and realise I was cleverer and more intelligent even a couple years ago than I am now. Its almost like I have become a living example of Dr. Walter Bishop (fictional character from a TV series called Fringe) who lost a lot ofhis intelligence and thinking due to having part of his brain cut out by his best friend and archnemesis. 

Maybe one day I might get bored enough to start searching for why I have lost interest in everyhing ... 

Today is not that day. 

Although a very small part of me wants to be rescued and wants to be found, thus this entry. My indifferent self has allowed to let this call for attention and a plea for help escape the confines of the morbid and macabre prison that I and my Id have built for me. 

Maybe one day the moon will shine, maybe one day ..... 

Disciple

Till then here is something I am currently scribbling

ab dukh bhi nahin hota .. doboya mujhe ko hone ne .. na hota mein ... to kya hota ? 

guzre kal ki yaad aye .. magar jab se sahara toota .. dil to kya .. rooh ko bhi tars aye

yeh mujrim hai zindagi ka .. zindagi hi iski saza .. woh fareb rehai .. aur such bolta jhoota ..

kya hdsa tha woh .. asr kar gaya is zalim pe .. kya asr tha woh .. dil tor gaya is ashiq ka .... 

He who walks the darkness alone