Repost? From Feb 3, 2006

Mar 30, 2010 23:29



"
I'm not one to pop off. If I'm feeling aggravated, I like to choke it back until I can properly sort out my outrage on my own time. I've never had a face-to-face reason oppressive, inspiring or radically offensive enough to boil my blood into unrestrained rage, yet. Everything in my life is emotionally related to this source of animosity. I can't avoid this unnamable, inexplicable fire in my throat and reliable sting in my stomach that forces my jaw to buckle and my grip to tighten. It's clockwork. It's constant. And It's got me fired up aloud.

I can't even complete an observation or a thought or a book anymore. I can't just be left to myself. There's no "out" time, there is no peace and it separates me from living and growing. Isn't it enough that this seething hell hole has kept me from doing anything with my life so far? Can't my potential and lost optimism be enough of a casualty? No, we have to push it a step further and drive me out of my weathered mind. I'm not going to be fine in Colorado. I'm not going to be fine until I sever all ties from this horrendous house. My nerves are shot. The mere thought of being here makes me ill. I'm running out of excuses, comfort, assurance, anything stable. I need to get out. For my health.

It's like watching paint dry. My life is like staring at a detailed mural of chances and idealized outcomes and simply waiting while they harden into a layer of less vibrant and exciting patterns all depicting passed opportunities and impenetrable memories. All that I am and all that I do is afraid and immobile. I have nothing to show for the work I've neglected in the thousands of dollars and grants thrown away to educate me on being a complete failure.

At whose hand?

*Exhale Dramatically*
"

Some stuff changed...
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