Life in a bottle

Often I think my life is in a bottle. You know, like a ship inside a bottle. Just that, I am inside it. The whole of my life, my existence, myself. It is a sense of being trapped, unable to escape, breathe or even express. And I think that someone has put me inside it, and cast me away on the sea, floating mindless, moving with the waves. There is this constant loneliness which is extremely unjustified. Because I’m not alone. I’ve never been alone. Then again, I do feel alone. Not always, but at times when I do, it is extreme. Like somebody is smothering me, suffocating me and I feel like I’m dying. Drowning, or like being waterboarded.

Seems there is no real bottle. Ofcourse there isn’t. It’s all in my head. That knowledge isn’t helping. Because I’ve cast that bottle on myself. Maybe it’s my failure to realise that I did this on myself. And not knowing how to undo this is only exacerbating the pain. I’m used to feeling this pain. A lot of it. I’ve gone through such pain many many times before. Each time, I’ve got numb and then accustomed to it to not feel threatened by it. Nothing is different this time.

Maybe I’m just nuts. Maybe all I need is a place to express my ramblings. My blog was always that to me. Now the remnants of the age old pain is torturing me. Years worth pent up pain feels unleashed. And my mind isn’t able to cope with it. I want an exit. I want to break the bottle.

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