I'm bitter. Full of naïveté and dreams, I plotted an unplanned path to nowhere and nothing special. I ended up here after a long sleep. the images I remember raise goosebumps and feelings of remorse, shame, and embarrassment.

The continual process of hating my self-pity even though psychological projection is validated with tears for others who I view as sharing circumstance.  I look at myself in the face of a child - male and female - throughout all worlds that move the earth. Suffering is synonymous with life.

Some are devoured despite nature or nurture, good or evil, rich or poor, this or that. Innocently honest entities experiencing inflicted pain and swallowing tragedy thick and slowly.

The luckiest children avoid the heavy baggage of the most well-intentioned loving parents and begin to collect their own. Some are born to surrogate parents who exploit children for desire or money; lives created who know nothing but suffering.

"Focus on the positive."
*******!
I can't lie just to fake a smile and I can't ignore the truth to stay asleep.

What do my attempts to help amount to?
How is what is positive not soured by what is true?

I can devote life to the living, but to what end?
The starvation of my family, the loss of shelter.
Instead of lending a hand to the forgotten I am enslaved by a system that perpetuates the long list of sorrows.

Yeah, I'll see you ******* at work.

I'm left with who I am when the night is still. I am a microcosm of everything I see. I don't want to feel sorry for myself - but I am sure that I will.