this is the life i live...

[l0st_n_f0und]

 One of those days when I question... Question my existence, my purpose, my strength, my reasoning for continuing on... Every hour counted down produces more questions. Every hour becoming harder until I am left in the late night hours in silence, with the questions built up all day long; left in the dark in the deep recesses of my mind without answers. No destractions, no relief to take me away from the dark. I desire sleep. But alertness is demanded, and the questions continue on... Piercing the silence with a noise that makes it loud. Loud with my own questions and lies and pain; loud with my own truths, and the circling battle that they fight with the lies. Even the lies are questions; even the truths.; everything contradicts; nothing is certain. Uncertainties spin me in circles until I drop, and am left in a ball on the floor, no hand to reach towards me, no clarity to be seen, no strength to pick myself up again, no love to heal, no tears to cry. Emotion is needed, but never comes. Relief does not come until someone walks through the door. Endorphins rise, chest tightens, and you pick yourself up with wide eyes, a racing heart and plastered smile, and you walk through the door; never turning back for a second glance, or for a final farewell to the place where another night was survived, accomplished, another battle won. You deserve recognition, a moment of fresh solitude to ponder the occurences of the night. But instead you listen to the door click behind you and robotically walk to your car, head down, hiding your face in shame; never daring to look back for fear that someone will look into your eyes and see, really see and then you will crumble and fall and not get up until someone does it for you. And you cannot, you cannot fall in their presence because then they will leave, with your strength in their pocket and you will be left there to rot in an unfinished death.

Endorphins are never what get you through that door. Not strength or hope or the battle simply ending. Shame was your motivator, desperacy your drive; but secrecy is what saved you that night (those nights); saved and killed, healed and tortured, thrown and abandoned. These are the days I live; every battle an ongoing one; each battle achieved but never won. Each one strengthening a fragment of your mind, malleating your soul but, ultimately tearing your being down.
You do not always become stronger with each battle won, or experiencxe had. Sometimes all the experiences do is add to your list of Stuff Done. More knowledge required, sure; but isn't wisdom what depresses? Wisdom=depression. Depression=wisdom. Win/Lose situation. But I suppose it all balences out in the end... Because, what can you do? This is the life I live...

And I will live it to the fullest.

Because really, what else can I do?