To My Old Inpatient Self: The Truth Isn’t Ugly If You Paint It Yellow

I became aware of the fact that life will come to an end. I don’t think I know if that saddens me or brings joy to me, but I can tell that all this time it made me feel pointless to live if at the end I’ll die. But now, now it’s like a golden plate has been given to me, like in a dream or something you have been told the answer to why we were created only to eventually die. I don’t know when I started thinking like this. I don’t know how all the misery was concealed. I know it is there. I have access to it all. I even know how. The keys are all there between my hands. Just by a thought from my brain I could start the mascare. A thought. One thought could destroy me. And I love how we know nothing about the human brain. Gives power to oneself knowing you have an uncontrollable nor knowable weapon.
In a word, we are all going to die one day and the world is going to end and it used to sadden me before, however, now it only strikes me as how sad it is to only think of anything since we won’t be here for long. Up to now, I used to acknowledge everything from the world’s unnoticed livings to my own prudent existence. It never occurred to me the need to acknowledge the opposites of the thoughts I had.
I have so little time to worry about what I won’t be even here to witness. The misery of this world. I might not be here tomorrow and I’m more than glad just by the thought of this. I no longer hold the worries that weighed my soul and heart down nor do I want to die, like the old days. Neither do the sight of the lives of everyone I know brings me sorrow knowing that their lives will always be going even if I am standing still or even if that immobility is my no longer existing body and my so long gone memory, I still find peace in the fact that I’ll be no different than the air you can’t see yet can’t be a functional you without.
I’ve found peace by the open sea, as the clear water washed my stained bloody thoughts, I’ve gained self respect. I may not love myself but I know that I don’t deserve hate. So I’ve given up on trying to make things right. I just stopped the self beating and for once knew it wasn’t worth carrying the blame of the world for a nonexistent criminal. Maybe it’s better left without an assaulted.
I no longer have a wish to figure out the brain of this game.
I think, which I actually can’t believe isn’t turning in a bad thought, that this is actually what peace of mind is.
I’ve suffered and, as promised, I was rewarded, with my long wanted haven: serenity. The port to where all my shipments (worries) can dock and I can sail with a free will (soul).
Times of trouble can no longer trouble me ’cause I no longer believe in trouble since this is a life I can choose the condition I want, and believe deserve, to live and die by.
It’s much more simpler than we claim it to be. However, we just never claimed it anything.
The nirvana I’ve reached while still having live heartbeats is the state I wish you come to have one day.
Truce with yourself.
The stillness of everything around you might make you assume for a second there that you’re dead, for the calm breeze of air you might feel will be different than any quiet storm you’ve lived by.
The definition of peace is freedom from disturbance. I’m glad to say I’ve went through the disturbance and I haven’t attained freedom through a journey to unfortunate events.
The ending wasn’t an unfortunate event, yet I wish for it to be the ending.

I no longer have a wish to figure out the brain of this game.