I have very little in common with who I once was. I despise what I am now. And I have no idea what I want to be.
Every avenue is a dead end. Every effort a failure- a failure because I’m too ignorant to pull the lesson from it. Every circumstance a loss- a loss because my confidence has eroded into nothingness, my belief system yields no comfort and my self-worth has dissolved into the menial nature of the task I now work ten hours a day, six days a week doing.
No conversation holds comfort. My girlfriend no longer embraces me. The baby in her womb is mine. I told God to go fuck Himself the other day. I feel like a pussy for whining about such matters here, but nobody else has time to care and I need the practice writing… I have no idea why.
This too shall pass. Sure. But who will I be afterwards?
I’m going to go grab a hot tea, eat a cookie and read some Baltasar Gracian. Others always have it worse. Who do they become when they lose everything they believed once mattered? I’ve always sought the truth. It seems life is loading it on my plate.
I wish I was more graceful in my acceptance of my meagerness. All I am however, is angry. I am afraid that passivity means I have surrendered to a menial life. How could I look at my child with eyes like that?
Keep it simple… no comments are necessary here. I do not write this for solutions or support. Only for myself.