As the title says its seems to me that time is killing my life. Every second I spend pondering, wallowing and wondering time takes my life. I have unfortunately have resorted to drugs to go to sleep cause I can't stop pondering, wallowing and wondering all the fucking time. The way the body and mind react to adversity leaves one almost at its mercy. The constant battle within myself to keep logic and reason in my system is exhausting. When one or someone else helps to condition yourself to feel bad and unworthy of one's self and everything else its feels impossible to recover from such a daunting thing. As I read this book, When Someone You Love Is Angry by W. Doyle Gentry, PH. D., I see the recycled pattern I keep replaying. It's a hard thing to face and accept what's been staring at you in the face the entire time. It's not even about everybody else being right or have there I told you so's ready to bomb my ears. It is a very hard thing to explain when you but every fiber and will of one's self into something and it still falls apart. Then try again and it fall apart. Then try again and it fall apart. Then try again and fall apart. You're probably tried of reading it as I am of writing and living it. Mind you that was only a few seconds of your life, now translate that feeling to a major part of your life. This is my starting point again. Feeling constantly exhausted and hope is just a ceremonial concept at this point. I just don't wanna become a graveyard of distant memories.
We constantly strive to achieve and improve our status in life. I feel there is a purpose to all this. As I walk alone, think alone and sleep alone I am now sensitive to my surroundings. But what good does that do me now. Watching everyone shop and be merry, well at least play the part. I feel we are trained to feel festive. Don't get me wrong its better than anything else we are condition to feel. I just miss my damn family, my nook, my little corner of the world. I just want my nook.
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