Yet comfortably lost.

Trouble is I´m not sure where I´m going. Not sure how I ended up so in the middle.
Man and his eternal tragedy.
Never here, never there.
My personal tragedy comes after discovering this.
Understanding the essence of my own tragedy and not being able to let go.
Not being able to end or even change it.
I live dreading this limbo.
The feeling of uncertanty is... I believe... the only reason of fearing death.
The only reason of enjoying life -at that-
It is our essence.
What troubled lives we must live.
How fragile is the stitching of this reality we have tried to put together. Based on certanties only we could believe are certain. Certanties that can be torn apart at the slightest quiver, at the slightest miscalculation.
Realizing all these uncertanties scares the hell out of me
It tears at my skin, and bleeds eternally. Cause flesh is the only thing that heals,
thoughts, on the other hand... eat away at you untill it´s you that´s gone.
And there you lay... hollowed.
On the brink of madness.
Questioning the words you speak, the floor you walk.
Certanties are just a habbit. Nor good nor bad.
Certanties tie a reality brick to your feet. To keep you from drifting. And in its attempts to grant you that freedom, to free you of that burden of emptiness, it chains you down.
It makes you think there is only one way to go. It gives you the right/wrong ilussion. This world is built on certanties... therefor I no longer belong to it.