I’ve drafted 4 blog posts before this one.
I’ve wanted to write but lately I’ve jotted down a few sentences and then I hit a wall. I think it’s because my mask has melted.
Standing in a room full of ‘friends’ and feeling so alone.
Feeling more at peace with corpses buried beneath our earth surface, than I do the living.
Staring into a crowd looking for the person with the gun aimed at you; only to find out that everyone has a gun aimed at you.
Fighting sleep because the chest pains are scary. Then feeling the sharp pains as I drift away into unconsciousness. Then awaking before dawn in a cold sweat.
Analyzing every relationship and interaction within seconds of them happening, spending the entire conversation wondering about the other party’s true intentions.
Wanting to be able to speak but not being able to catch the words. Watching the devil dance on my tongue as I wish to speak life on others; silence steals the show.
Anxiety has shown itself over the last few days and has made several attempts to cripple my soul. Bruised and battered, I still stand. I’m not interested in taking medicine nor am I particularly interested in resting.
I want to fight and fight is what I will do.