Thursday, March 31, 2016

Cutting Metal

Perhaps  what I'm doing to myself is kin to "cutting". Dealing with severe emotional issues via self damage and pain. I don't pretend that this is unique or in any way makes me special.  I'm just trying to be honest. Am I cable of caring about anything in the long term? Especially myself?

Life is funny in that there is always a joke to be made. Always a way to poke fun, and spit on God's face.  I've rarely presented pride. At least I don't remember that being some egregious gross side of my character.

I know you think of me as strong. I fancy myself the same. I know this should be a simple matter, one left like a taxi waved on. But it has proven worse than that. Insidious. Unfathomable. A flea's bite,  writ large and continual. I know I was supposed to have figured this out by now. To have solved,  to have lead myself past this seemingly small sinker on the line. The elephant in the room is, I have not found the way out or past. The fact is I'm a thrall to it. And the hour only grows later, more painful, more obvious. I am sorry. This malfunction on my brain's perception  of soul will lead me early from you. I am to blame. It is my shame alone. And it is unfair,  irresistible,  irresponsible. If only I could take a stand. Make the correct choice. I can choose for others, but apparently  not myself.   What words will save me?