Pain. Hurt. Confusion. You keep talking but you lost me a good ten minutes ago. A sinking feeling. Dread. Back in the ditch. Knocked off track again. Eyes close. Eyes open. Darkness ensues. A question. I don't know the answer. I don't know the question either. Lost. In this place I am not myself. You should see me out there. Out there you wouldn't pity me. To carry on out there I need to survive in here. Survival of the fittest.
Why do I continue to do happy, when my understanding of the subject matter is minimal and clouded. Why try and draw the hills when they are shrouded in mist? That begs the question, why do anything at all? Life seems to have no point when I have no one to protect. If I have no one to protect then no one needs me, then why should I be here at all? A compass spinning without an anchor. A useless tool. Pack me away, hide me in your attic, shove me under your desk, lock me in your drawer.
Existence is marked by our achievements Then are we marred by existence? Trapped until age finally frees us. Tell me why tomorrow should be different? Give me someone to protect and I'll tell them just how good life is. Without this my life is a much a waste as it was when I was 18.
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