isolation
I tried too hard again. I taste the blood in my mouth as I realize that I bit my lip too hard. It hurts, but the pain is automatically numbed by the fact that I'm still not good enough. The drama that I deal with, and Fear takes me by the hand and tries to take me away to his neverending hall of doom. I feel like I can't go on, but the push from behind is still there, waiting for me to do more. Did I miss the memo that told us we would be worked to the bone? Or did I just not get told again? Either way, I am slowly dying. The pressure, the constant battle with correctness, and my passion is decreasing every moment. The world that I live in is becoming a harder place to breathe in. When someone comes in, they bring a supply of life and leave when their tank begins to go out. There is no trust in this world, no peace, and no esteem. It feels like my own little front yard, all cut and clean, but at the same time...cold and desolate. I'm the only one here and I'm huddled in my corner. People search for me and begin to wonder where I've gone. But no one asks about me. No one goes out of their way to see what I'm up to. If it comes up in a conversation there might be a sentence geared toward me, but no real interest. I've grown accustomed to the isolation from the real world. But I still wish that someone would reach out and see how scared, tired, and dead I am becoming. Surprises, hugs, just overall niceness is what I need...that's all.