Indifference, my love

 I am never going to forget the Nepal trip coming from Boston. Being discharged, although it wasn't for a big time of medical admission, fairly 12 hours, and then sitting on a plane with excruciating headache telling myself it's going to be okay. Man, how comfortable I have gotten in this. Is this strength or cowardice? To be so comfortable in telling lies to myself, but I know that I can take it. Even if it means asking for electrolytes on the plane and air hostess asking me if I need a doctor two hours later, I am comfortable in this. I am taking everything as something that's normal and it worries me because it's not and one day when it reaches something huge, there's going to be no one and nothing for me to hold onto because I have so much solace in it. It will feel like just an extension, and that haunts me. I am capable of traveling alone, I want to because I know I can seek help from strangers, and they are kind. Human race isn't as unkind as people generally think. I feel like institutions and social constructs make a man terrible, innately if someone is in trouble, I help them. Maybe I do have higher expectations from them, but these expectations are just in like doing things I would do. I assume that everyone would do things I would do for others, but I know that isn't true. And it's not my gullibility that makes me think that; it's just how I view human lives. I don't want deep human connections with them, but if I am dying somewhere, I know they will take me to a hospital, that's innate humanity to me. Yes, my definition of humanity is just that. No matter what a person is like, humans will save them. And that's all the safety I need. That's all the humanity I need. And with that in my mind and my own confidence that I can do shit on my own, I am ready to travel the world. But this comfort in abnormal normality of mine which I have created puts me in a place which feels agonizing sometimes, and I can't do anything about it because I can't constantly be sad about it either. I won't live my life ever that way. If I let it be a hindrance to my life, I let it win. So, in this choice of battle between sadness and indifference, I choose indifference because I have eternal sadness all along. Now this perception of life filled with agony and despair and the physical toll of my conscience slowly dripping off of me like a wet shirt being crumpled, I don't know when all the water will run out and I will lay in my deathbed. It haunts me now more than ever to know that I will not feel it. I know I will not because of how much indifference I have shown, I no longer have it in me. Well, I will die without pain, but see, maybe that's the part of dying that's worthwhile, the pain of life well spent, and alas, I wouldn't feel it.

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