Alive

The experience of being a human is so burdensome. It is truly painful to just live, to be alive, to experience a wide range of emotions.
Being human is being majestic and clumsy at the same time. Enduring so much hardship with relative ease but getting hurt at the smallest things.

I am very sensitive and prone to depressions. I don't talk about it, with anyone. It feels un-real to talk about downs. When I'm sad and hurt and I lack direction, I don't know how to connect. I can't connect, I don't want to, because talking to people, connecting and trying to find understanding and relation makes me feel vulnerable. So I close off and let myself fall into it, whatever depressing feeling is taking me. I fall all the way, as deep as it goes, eyes open. Another part of the experience. Like pressing on a bruise, just to take it as far as it can go, to make it hurt in all its realness.

Often times, I try to see myself from the outside (although I know it's impossible) and it really is heart-warming how we, as people, try to go through life tripping and falling and dancing and laughing and in the end that was life and that is all there is to it.
And all the reasons why I hide seem so meaningless. All the things I am always feeling so embarrassed, awkward, scared. The unshakable feeling that there is no one out there who truly knows me, it always makes me think that no one really knows anyone else.
Some people I think sometimes come as they are, show themselves, but then, I still don't know. Surely all of us hide in ourselves. Keep quiet not to disturb, not to interrupt, not to spill our own selves into everything. Leaving enough space for others to exist and express.

Ah, these are just 2:32am ramblings.