everything feels fake

I haven’t been socializing the past few weeks. I’d rather stay at home and do my unproductive things. I find myself in bed most days. I tell myself after this one game or after this one episode, after I take a bath, I’ll do what I’m supposed to do. And it just became a cycle of broken promises to myself. And now, I was scrolling through my feed and every personal post from friends and family of any celebrations of everyone smiling, feels so fake, and to a point I feel fake myself.

I have a lot of things to do and I keep putting them off. In my head I want to start them but I end up greeting the next day not having finished anything. I guess, I can’t find a comfortable conclusion for now.

I’ve researched about it. This feeling of looking at everyone and everything as fake or unreal – in psychology they call it depersonalisation derealisation. They say 2% of the World population have this constant ongoing feeling of everyone and everything is fake. While 75% of the World population may experience this feeling at least once in their lives. But compared to the 75% who experience this as a fleeting moment, the 2% have this consuming feeling throughout their lives.

This must be the effect of stopping my daily meditation. Every idea also seems hard to actualize and follow-through. I don’t even have a motivation to get up sometimes. But I feel a bit better now.

Thank you for listening to another incoherent post.

Note to self: Try Sunya for at least 2 minutes a day no matter where I am. And run someone’s Bars or ask someone to run for meeeeee.

Where did all that time go?

I don’t quite remember how many years ago I lasted posted about anything. One of the many reasons I deluded myself into not blogging or writing was I broke my anonymity. I shared this wordpress link to my personal facebook and most often people remember what I write. And that somehow bothers me. A part of me wants to be seen but another part would like to stay in obscurity.

It’s almost 3AM. Same thing I used to do years back was stay awake when everything’s dead silent and cry and laugh and contemplate and write. So where did all that time go?

It feels like a lot of things have changed, I’ve let a lot of things go yet I feel I still write for the same reason I wrote before. To make sense of this emptiness yet not quite empty feelings. For if it were truly empty then I wouldn’t have felt this suffocating feeling and wanting to throw up.

I feel I still write for the same reasons before. It is quite a selfish act, writing – to release the endless mindless chatter now. But does the mindless chatter ever stop? It doesn’t.

I’ve been shifting from sadness, loneliness, to satisfied these past days. I guess a person’s passing and a celebrity for that matter, one that I even did not follow so closely has impacted how I respond to life. He looked happy, with hints of being tired and sad, yet happy. I shift from denial to bargaining and a little bit of anger. They say its three of the five stages of grieving. And I guess I mourn his passing beyond my own expectations.

So, where did all that time go?