What the ****, I keep getting caught up in the moment and end up getting stuck. Am I lazy or am I too much of a dreamer to realize the world outside my head, maybe I'm just a people pleaser and can't put myself first even if I know I'll leave feeling dead. I know who I am and I'm capable of giving advice to any situation but I can never console myself when I feel watered down. The ******* used to take me out of the mundane and allow me to see through the saturation and it was possible to get by acting like a clown but now without drugs acting as my crown, its harder to separate what's buried beneath scared mounds. Were the wounds from a memory I forgot? Efforts to dig myself out and couldn't stop? Like wiping away grime on a ***** mirror, I tried to see my image but couldn't get past the fungal rot. Looking in, I stare and watch myself, searching for the sanity I've always sought.