what bad looks like through my eyes
Some days that bottle is just not far enough away from my mind's trembling fingers. Some days life just seems to be a gauntlet of cattle prods, ushering us on towards nothing but emptiness. Today has been one of those days.
It is one of those where I feel like an explosion wrapped in a tight shell. I have all this energy, and when I get backed up and feel that I have nothing worthwhile to pour that energy into, it starts devouring me. It dissolves patience like salt in water, and leaves behind a similar bitterness. I start burning myself tighter and tighter and I have no way to change the flow. I'm simply carried along it towards whatever whim it wishes.
I suppose I could be comforted, by the fact that I used to feel this way so much more often before than I do now, but once I'm trapped here, nothing like that matters. That's really what the snare is... everything instantly loses value, and the only things whose value I don't strip when I'm like this are things that I don't even have right now. I go from being on top and in control... to a vast pool.. of nothing. There is no escape, because anything I could grab a hold of instantly becomes intangible. It's like my mind intentionally wants to keep me locked in this personal hell.
I want things, things that I worry now that I may never have. I think I'd give up all my dreams just for a little sanity, a little stability, a little peace. I knew long ago that the only place I could always rely on for comfort would be myself, and I'm just lately coming back towards that self-sufficient beginning. It's not that I have no place to turn to, it's that I know that any place I go will not provide me with what I am so desperately seeking. I know so few people right now that I can't predict very well, and once I"m at that point with someone, I can usually tell where any particular conversation will head before I even have it.
I suppose that is some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. I might do things to try and make people act like I expect them to, instigate them if I expect them to get angry, something like that. I don't know, I can't think anymore and I need sleep...
"If a man comes to the door of poetry untouched by the madness of the Muses, believing that techique alone will make him a good poet, he and his sane compositions never reach perfection, but are utterly eclipsed by the performances of the inspired madman." - Socrates
It is one of those where I feel like an explosion wrapped in a tight shell. I have all this energy, and when I get backed up and feel that I have nothing worthwhile to pour that energy into, it starts devouring me. It dissolves patience like salt in water, and leaves behind a similar bitterness. I start burning myself tighter and tighter and I have no way to change the flow. I'm simply carried along it towards whatever whim it wishes.
I suppose I could be comforted, by the fact that I used to feel this way so much more often before than I do now, but once I'm trapped here, nothing like that matters. That's really what the snare is... everything instantly loses value, and the only things whose value I don't strip when I'm like this are things that I don't even have right now. I go from being on top and in control... to a vast pool.. of nothing. There is no escape, because anything I could grab a hold of instantly becomes intangible. It's like my mind intentionally wants to keep me locked in this personal hell.
I want things, things that I worry now that I may never have. I think I'd give up all my dreams just for a little sanity, a little stability, a little peace. I knew long ago that the only place I could always rely on for comfort would be myself, and I'm just lately coming back towards that self-sufficient beginning. It's not that I have no place to turn to, it's that I know that any place I go will not provide me with what I am so desperately seeking. I know so few people right now that I can't predict very well, and once I"m at that point with someone, I can usually tell where any particular conversation will head before I even have it.
I suppose that is some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. I might do things to try and make people act like I expect them to, instigate them if I expect them to get angry, something like that. I don't know, I can't think anymore and I need sleep...
"If a man comes to the door of poetry untouched by the madness of the Muses, believing that techique alone will make him a good poet, he and his sane compositions never reach perfection, but are utterly eclipsed by the performances of the inspired madman." - Socrates