Drivel

0052 MONDAY August 26th, 2024

Excerpt:

Existing is easy, living is hard. Harder yet is choosing to exit.

For all the joys we experience,

equal if not greater torment.

So few equalities in this world,

it just is.

I cannot crack this shell,

I want the interior to seep.

I want what I've earned,

and nothing's what I'm owed.

I find peace only in sleep,

made invisible among sheep.

How cruel for a stomach to crave

what the brain cannot fathom

what hands cannot grasp

what the heard cannot muster

and moreover having not tried

to draw lines a foot higher.

Everyday feels more laborious

soon to be each minute

and seconds, only a second.

Soon pleasure outweighs work,

and yet it all feels like labor.

What will become a regret next?

There seems nothing unquestioned.

No certainties for me, no joy to be.

Does any guarantee exist?

Should I wipe expectations?

No, all pointless drivel.

The point is to find balance, to be comfortable with the opposite. The point is not to spiral. The point is overcoming weakness. The point is being free from crutches. The point is to grow the fuck up. Stop digging that little pity hole. I cannot find that arbitrary balance of self hate and love. Even in admitting I cannot, I recognize the false pretenses. Its all bullshit.

Everyone has advice, no answers. There are no answers. There are no ends but the final curtain pull. Everything is but a means. We're all racing to the tip of the spear, but we'll near never reach the point.

Am I cursed to repeat the same life until I learn some lesson? It's not that I don't understand. It's just that I don't like the answers.

DFWYNLM #175