Nov 2017
I'm afraid.
The sky is the same color as it was the day before and night is never bright, the stars are not visible too.
It rained today and its unusual, it only rains a few times every year, most think of it as a blessing, it makes me feel blue.
I hate thinking about the future because it's terrifying to me, as all roads lead to Rome, I feel as if every decision I consider or end up making will lead up to me becoming a failure, I bring upon myself my own rue.
I am so scared and my opportunities don't vary, I have yet to discover the meaning of life and with every day I feel myself getting older and older, getting by aimlessly through life, breathing stale air and eating and sleeping, just stoic.
I feel myself getting older day by day, and I worry, I worry so much and live in the torment of my worries, my mind won't stop. there's no way out, I live in a prison of my thoughts, and my dreams are not of console since they die and rot in this place as I type.
What of beautiful life? What of music? what of joy and love and hearts being full to the point of combustion? what of smiles and arms that hug you and lend you comfort? Am I not worthy of them? Does this place take everything that makes me human away?
I am nothing, my destiny is like that of everyone else, and that's what makes my insides quiver and sends a chill down my spine.
It's not being different that concerns me, but being like everyone else makes me feel like I'm slowly killing myself, destructing and crushing whatever wild flower that might've slipped and grown through the cracks of my sculpted mind. I can't be like everyone else.
I am afraid.
This place feels too small and yet it feels so big, my everyday life is a big deal to me and yet it is a segment that will never occur again in somebody else's life. A waiter, a stranger, a passing account on the internet. Isn't that crazy to think about? How you mean so little to a lot of people and they won't ever know your name, and how important it is to you and vice versa.
I can't comfort myself anymore and I am so afraid, something within me wants to be immortal, and the other wants to be forgotten.
I worry a lot, I seek comfort in anything and yet nothing does the job.
I'm afraid.
Of my mind,
Of my worries,
Of my fears,
and yet I know that they will take over eventually.
The sky is the same color as it was the day before and night is never bright, the stars are not visible too.
It rained today and its unusual, it only rains a few times every year, most think of it as a blessing, it makes me feel blue.
I hate thinking about the future because it's terrifying to me, as all roads lead to Rome, I feel as if every decision I consider or end up making will lead up to me becoming a failure, I bring upon myself my own rue.
I am so scared and my opportunities don't vary, I have yet to discover the meaning of life and with every day I feel myself getting older and older, getting by aimlessly through life, breathing stale air and eating and sleeping, just stoic.
I feel myself getting older day by day, and I worry, I worry so much and live in the torment of my worries, my mind won't stop. there's no way out, I live in a prison of my thoughts, and my dreams are not of console since they die and rot in this place as I type.
What of beautiful life? What of music? what of joy and love and hearts being full to the point of combustion? what of smiles and arms that hug you and lend you comfort? Am I not worthy of them? Does this place take everything that makes me human away?
I am nothing, my destiny is like that of everyone else, and that's what makes my insides quiver and sends a chill down my spine.
It's not being different that concerns me, but being like everyone else makes me feel like I'm slowly killing myself, destructing and crushing whatever wild flower that might've slipped and grown through the cracks of my sculpted mind. I can't be like everyone else.
I am afraid.
This place feels too small and yet it feels so big, my everyday life is a big deal to me and yet it is a segment that will never occur again in somebody else's life. A waiter, a stranger, a passing account on the internet. Isn't that crazy to think about? How you mean so little to a lot of people and they won't ever know your name, and how important it is to you and vice versa.
I can't comfort myself anymore and I am so afraid, something within me wants to be immortal, and the other wants to be forgotten.
I worry a lot, I seek comfort in anything and yet nothing does the job.
I'm afraid.
Of my mind,
Of my worries,
Of my fears,
and yet I know that they will take over eventually.
just a rant to try to ease my fear don't think its worth reading since it has nothing to do with poetry but I needed a platform to vent. This was it.
