Nothing that I have done up to now has brought me any closer to discovering what I want out of life, much less any closer to achieving it. I can't begin to count the days I've spent wondering the desert of human existence monitoring my happiness and trying to figure out what brought me joy and what brought me pain.
Even now when I sit up in the dark, the questions dart through my minds like hummingbirds fighting. What does it all mean? What's the point really? Does anything make a difference? How would things change if I perished tomorrow?
The answers never come.
It's not that I hate my life, or that I'm miserable with my existence. But there's a void there, a void that God, love, hate, sex nor writing has been able to fill. Like an arcane knowledge written on an ancient tome it's kept just beyond my reach and I find my self doing circles in life, getting nowhere, all the while skirting the issue at hand.
To this day I can't think of anything that has made me feel fulfilled, something that has made me whole. I have a sense of purpose, yes, this is true and it's probably the only thing that keeps me breathing, but I feel as if I have nothing else.
So I merely survive, one day to the next, one battle to the next, one wound to the next and wait in vain for the day in which it all comes to be too much, the day in which the camel drops it's load in the sand.
Ever since the day I was born I've had a huge burden placed on my shoulders. Even after the initial burden was lifted I sought out other weights, even heavier than before until I found myself carrying the world on my shoulders. Somehow, these weights, these burdens have made me feel more complete, but like most ties that bind they've kept me from my goals and dreams and now I'm so far away I don't even remember what they were.
I don't have any dreams anymore; anyone who says otherwise doesn't know me.
I'm useless, I'm a tool, and I'm a sponge for information and nothing more. All that my 21 years of existence have amounted to was filling a large grade book. But I should have been filling my biography.
Instead, now I'm lost and confused. I'm adrift at sea with no hopes of finding my way home. I don't remember where I went wrong. I just know I did. Now nothing brings me happiness, now no one makes me smile and I don't even know which way to head to get my soul back.
So if you happen to read this message in a bottle, perchance pick it up on some sandy beach in a faraway land, don't bother looking for me, for I can't be found, don't bother comforting me, for it can't be done and don't bother hating me, for comfort means nothing at all.
Just heed my warnings and heed them well. Live each day and each hour as if it were your last. Lest you wind up like me, the man who has it all, but still just an empty shell…