There’s that oh so familiar feeling again. Closest similar is pain. They may be kin. Twins even. I hate this feeling. But I suppose it’s my fault. Keep making the same mistakes over and over again. Keep giving in to the fear. Keep trying to hold on to hope.
By every metric I’m a failure. Silver lining has long rusted because turns out it was tin. Cuts both ways. I know I’m catastrophizing right now but what’s bothering me the most is that I put myself in this position in the first place. I had a glimpse of the light and couldn’t stop myself from running toward it. Again. What a joke. Feels like I’m only alive to die. Song, change.
Believe it or not I started this with the intent to polish off some thoughts from the previous diatribe. Nope, not quite right but then I don’t have enough of a reason to go back and fix it. I’m down in the dumps here. No? Doesn’t work? Figures. Have to be real to garner sympathy. What the heck am I?! What am I even fighting for?! Living for.
Funny enough, this will someone probably edge out being the least suicidal thing I’ve written this year. Probably. I’m just so tired. Tired of being something I’m not. Tired of being accommodating. Tired of being alone. And yet everything I do seems to foster that very outcome. I was asked about self-fulfilling. The truth is that I’m where I belong. In this dark, painful, black.
I actually just fell asleep. Guess I was more than figuratively speaking just then. And yet the sad boy mix continues all the same. “Break” playlist has plenty far to go. The clock’s not up yet. Still have time. So, where was I? Why am I “here,” right? Again. What’s it like to feel at home? Seems I spent more time running away than I previously thought. This introspection is really doing a number on me. It’s my fault for not realizing sooner. When I let go of my home, I was letting go of any possible anchor to this, place. This world. It’s no wonder I’ve felt so lost meandering around, unable to connect. Difficult to tell if this is another excuse or not. For all I know, I have this trouble connecting because I never knew a home in the first place. And here come the flashbacks. Freaking P. T. S. D. F’n a-
She called me months ago now. I found one of our last correspondences a month ago now. I remembered why we stopped talking. It’s because I have the worst super power. The inability to communicate. My words are Schrödinger. But who would’ve guessed it could have such a downside? That, for this silver tongue, it also means to never be known. And now we’re back in the game. I wanted this. To be a ghost. Ever since I was young. To escape the pain. The beatings. The ridicule. And here I am. Unable to say anything of consequence no matter how hard I try. Why is it whenever I tell someone I care about them they pull away? Why was it so easy to leave every one and every thing back there? Why can’t I just accept this darkness and become the sacrifice I was born to be? Why do I keep coming back after walking away? I have to go. For real this time. Because there’s nothing I could say anyway. Midas’ Tongue. All this revelation and I completely missed the point.
I’m the worst of the worst. I can’t even commit to the bit. In the last post I forgot to add misogynist.