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36

A number of years ago (can't remember the count) I used to hear this figure in my head "36". I couldn't get what that meant exactly, but, back then, I thought this could mean that I may die when I am 36! That idea was scary, so I used to kick it out of my head. I kept hearing the "36" though, for so many years. A few months ago, I remembered that voice. Though I don't hear it anymore. And, then, I had a different idea, maybe it means that my life will "start" when I am 36, specially that I don't believe that I had a real life since I was born. I had that positive feeling that I deserve my life to start, I have been preparing for for too long. That was a few months ago!

Today, I turn 36. And the funny thing is that I like the first idea more! My faith and beliefs are all messed up with the effect of my major depressive disroder. I am tired. I believe I had enough. I have no wishes or hopes. The only thing I could be wishing for is be "nothing", I wish I was nothing, or be nothing. This life is just nothing. Everyone is chasing nothing, for the sake of nothing. It is all non-sense. It is all not worth the pain!

Today, I turn 36, and for the first time in my life, I have clear plans. Maybe they are clear because I don't care for life anymore. Maybe they are clear cause I am living because I have to, not because I want to. They are clear, and I don't care if I achieve them! They are clear and my only wish is that I don't live long enough to achieve them!

Today, I turn 36, and I am still not sure what that voice in my head had ever meant. The only way to know is to check on me a year from now. If I am dead, then be happy for me, the first thought was the right one. If I am still there, I don't know how you should feel like, if you care at all!! A year from now, if I achieved my plans, and I am still alive, then maybe, the second thought was the right one. But, having achieved my plans, doesn't mean that I am alive, or that my life has started. Does it even matter?!


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"Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. He threshes you to make you naked. He sifts you to free you from your husks. He grinds you to whiteness. He kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast."

The Prophet ~ Khalil Gibran