Redundant phrases and familiar fears fill me as i slip into a vortex of sadness and rage. Searching for an unrecognized scapegoat for the pain only to find myself alone in the room. my body vibrates with the electric frustration of life itself. Cold and uncomfortable I find no solace in anything that typically fills the void. I poured the wine but can't bring myself to drink, sat by the keyboard but struggled over the pointlessness of each word. Satiated only by flashes of something i repeatedly snuff out. I lash out like a child, helpless to express it all at once any other way. Frustrated and exhausted with the same old shit but still waiting longingly for the spark of perfection. There seems to be a solid reason why love is so frequently compared to a drug. What is often overlooked is the pain and withdraw when it's not available to you. The "off days" aren't just dull, they stab through every beautiful moment, tarnishing what previously shined. So tired and weak, I can barely see the point anymore. Scrutinizing over every tiny thing I do just knowing it's always wrong. Maybe this is the end of my road. I've done all that I can do. every step I take from here on out will only lead the rest of them to the same disappointment. Where do you go when you've worn out every path. When you tried to be more fun, care about less, love better, look nicer....and in the end still feel like you've failed at them all. There is no road for me. Nobody left to turn to, nothing left to say. So tired but unable to sleep. It's these moments that seem to never end where i wish I could close my eyes and go back to a perfect moment that I just couldn't hold onto and stay. A place where i wouldn't disappoint anyone, not even myself. A place where that love isn't tarnished or bruised. Somewhere I feel alive, seen and needed. But my eyes always open and the truth is right there like a film coating them. As if filtering the whole world with a caption that says "why bother".
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