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i had a very anti-existence dream
theres a house in the middle of a plain. its surrounded by two lines of plants, almost-trees from where i grew up. i don& #39;t know what they& #39;re called. they& #39;re all dead and dry. some older version of me or some character i associate with is lying down on the ground between the rows
someone nearby lights a match. and its someone i least expected to do it. they toss it onto a tree and it immediately catches on fire. then they vanish. he sort of sits on the ground and watches it catch fire. then he gets up and runs when he realizes he& #39;s in danger.
but only then. he was content to watch it burn. he runs past the almost-trees while fire engulfs them until he hits the end and the house front is visible. smoke covers everything to the sides and behind it. the house itself is on fire; the roof, at least.
something kicks him to see if anyone is in there. something that would brutalize him later if he didnt check. he runs to the door, opens it, and stares. the door opened to a single room filled with things he recognized as his, but didn& #39;t own
no people. just things he thought he& #39;d never see again. items and mementos with meanings he had cut out of himself to avoid feeling their loss. and with each one, that was okay. it was easy enough to ignore. but not all at once.
so he does what he thinks will help most. he closes the door, backs away, turns around, and walks away so they& #39;ll burn. and he keeps walking. until there& #39;s no more fire.
i havent had a stable home since i was 12 years old. ive lost everything i ever owned twice. physically, the only thing that points to my existence is me. cutting ties, burning bridges, and just running when i face some difficult situation sounds extremely nice.
i& #39;m trying really hard not to do that. the idea of being alone is both appealing and scary. i feel like dying, but not to.. end suffering. just to get rid of me and this person who i dont think is me. i want to be alive as somebody else. cut ties with this world.
my grandma dying is really when my life started to unravel. and i avoid thinking about that as much as possible. and i try really hard to avoid thinking about her expression when she died. she was fucking terrified.
reckless and/or abrupt abandonment. it, at the very least, whittles down on shit you care about. you get to find all the holes and bumps in your empathy. what you value. the things you can do with and without can be really surprising.
i dont really know what to do with this thread. it spilled out. im not gonna clean it up. i could add a lot more but i cant cry and not have somebody notice right now, so ill hold off
