Same story…. I hope things get better at home…
My mind has been racing for about 2 weeks, especially in the mornings. I wish I could be at peace but I’m not. It’s difficult, but I’m trying. It’s a bit easier these days but not always. I’ve become the villain yet again in another story. Why speak when it lands on death ears? My courage in the face of fear is cold hearted. If my demise can bring serenity to the world I’ve destroyed…then finish me… So that peace may be restored. I will pay the cost if it means serenity may be restored.
I made out like a bandit on Black Friday. I got a few things for myself, some of which have helped clear up space in my room. It was definitely worth the investment, especially with the bit of money I ended up saving. Even got my mom a camera she wanted for Christmas. It was funny seeing her smile like that.
I also almost died from dust. I seem to forget just HOW allergic I am to dust. There was so much in the air from cleaning my room to accommodate the stuff I bought that I was struggling to breathe sometimes. I’m fine now, and the dust is all gone for now. I also got to organize the room and have some more space to work with.
I am not a perfect man. I get compared to the trash that preceded me. I made mistakes. BIG ONES. Things that I would never be forgiven for. Still I fought.
No one walking this Earth’s surface is perfect. I’m told that happiness cannot be held when I’m around… Twice. Still I fought.
I have bad memory. it has gotten progressively worse. I try to remember things and I try to improve on errors of the past. “I appreciate it, but it’s too little”. Still I fought.
I was ostracized for days from your side. Because of my poor memory. For the errors that I made. a grueling punishment where all I could do was reflect. It left me in pain. The pain one receives from thirst and just desires even a sip of water to quench it but cannot have it. Still I fought.
My mind is bad at making decisions. My moral compass tries to point in every which-way . Even when it shouldn’t be. Constantly leading me down the wrong path. Still I fought.
I have never experienced this before. Ever. A complete inability to feel like I could make someone happy. All I wanted was for happiness to come. My efforts began to feel futile. Still I fought.
I finally reluctantly release. Tears flowing like waterfalls into rivers. It tore through me just as much. STILL I FOUGHT.
I suffer through a dry spell unlike any before… All the while still trying to improve my character. Feeling strong spells of weakness to both body and spirit. Slowly dying inside, Still… I fought…
They say, “If you love something set it free.” I have never made this choice before, openly disregarding it. Have everything crumble at the end… I fought myself… to set it free.
Now I’m known as the soldier who surrendered. Perceptions of myself are different to others. I carry a scar naked to most, visible only to a few. I’m beaten down from so many fights, with only the regret of not being able to succeed when I wanted… needed… it most. And yet, I would still fight…
Sometimes its difficult for me to be sane
As I end up strolling down along memory lane
And I always seem to end up here at night
giving me no choice but to sit down and write
They call this “inspiration” but it cuts me deep
and prevents me from receiving even an once of sleep
but here I am now, just writing away
as I try to make it through ‘til the end of the day
and I think I may have reached the very end of my rope
but this rope is what I’ll use so that I can scale the slope
cause I refuse to let go and begin to mope
and I’ll keep searching ‘till I find some hope
I’ll try to keep busy and stay prepared
for whatever might finally be declared.
===
Writing… It truly is my only escape.
“I’m just trying to make some sense in my mind
Some defense from the cold that I’m feeling outside
And for a minute, escape with some rhythm and rhyme
and get away from the gray just a bit of the time”
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