Excerpt from a story I wrote.
The kaleidoscopic visions were luring me into an almost demented state. How do I explain what was overcoming me? I always knew I was not perfect, no one can ever be… but it had never struck me so strongly before, because I had as far as I could, strived to be the best, the best of my own capabilities. I believed, always had, in the magical powers I possessed, even when no one else believed in them, no one else had ever witnessed them, for me they held an utmost importance, and today, I was being shaken in the very roots of my beliefs. What if all that I had believed was actually merely an illusion? Or an ephemeral repercussion of my highly imaginative mind? There I was, silently slipping to the floor, during what may be my last moments. Was I going to question every single event of my life, or was I going to hold on to mere strands of my beliefs, and embrace the supposition that I had always been right? Which one was me?
It probably was not the right time to go through a series of self-analysis but I could not find better to do. Hang on, no, that was not so true. It was not in pursuit of better things but rather, a justification of who I really am, without pretence. I had been driven by a maddening desire to figure out what the shapes of the clouds were trying to tell me; I was mistaken that the answers would be hidden in shady trees. How could it be? I collide with the murky wall of a dead end as I realise that I had been chasing shadows! My anger mounts… it cannot be only me. I still look calm from the outside but my demeanour exudes clearly that a storm is erupting inside.
What do we do if suddenly we come at a point where we are told that everything that we were made to have faith in was all a massive lie? How do we react? Shrug it off and gather other new beliefs so that again we see them being shattered at a later stage of our lives? I stop this succession of thoughts, because I know I do not have time to gather or make sense of anything new. Why do I have to get angry at this stage, when I have nothing to lose? Why even try to gain something? No one forced me to believe in anything, it was entirely my choice all along, and now that it is about to end, am I going to reject it all and try to be someone else, someone foreign to myself? That is not me. That cannot be me.