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Apr 2013
It:::::just:::::::so:::::::happens

-that a door to another world opened today. I caught a glimpse but my attention is so consistently drawn to the weight of what I carry; it is gently cradled while I rearrange the tattered wraps that keep it bundled. 



-Such a man as this committed to remain stuck in this world while crying for a change; the royal cynic shadow king, lazily draped upon a throne of ***** matter.

-If not the others who make up this world, who can I look to for the feeling of worth that I cannot find?

-I've decided to sit this one out a long time ago, you know? I keep the expectations low enough to match the efforts but my thoughts are too many to regard this as victory. 



-It just so happens that I live my life in a constant state of grief. I mourn the naïveté that once provided escape. I mourn the loss of hope, no longer comforted by the story of a distant day feeling worthy of life and just being enough.

-What I seek cannot be provided from the world I see outside. This feeling of worth is not attached or enhanced by lovers, friends, or family. No experience, accomplishment, object, or victory will satisfy my soul.

-In the end, I can only rely on myself.



-This realization is a new door and the first steps wandering through begin the path of holding oneself accountable for decision and action.

-Empty, unapologetic, and all consuming

-A discovery that all days painted in an unfavorable way have been set to the theme I've created.

-This path is not chosen by everyone, some never meet this realization. I run only to end up right where I started. Others deny and hide from the ugliness that resides within. The once empty pleasures of activity without substance will no longer do, but the rewards along the way are many.


-Some days I really can’t find my value. Some days all that I create turns out like sh*t. Some days I cry about my imperfections and those reflected by my family. Some days I don't want to wake. Most days I crave more connection while hiding away. Some days just don't seem worth the effort it takes to make it through to the next. 



Still sad – partly mad
Am I worthy of this life? 

If I wasn’t this would not exist.
Who the freak. I'm more ef'd up than most. It isn't easy but my path is to die living to this accord. Some people are closer than others. Maybe the secret is complete accountability.  Ah, self-actualization -- that is what I strive for.
Kam Yuks
Written by
Kam Yuks  Rochester NY
(Rochester NY)   
  887
   st64 and John Edward Smallshaw
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