Completely confused over what to do. I wish I knew the next step, the next move that Whoever has in store for me. I hope its something good, and not the plummet that I’ve learned to respect. Whatever it may be though let it be something different this time. Something that I can actually tell my friends without them stopping me and saying, “Hey, you already told me this”. Rather it is bad, or rather it be good, at least my friends would stop and listen, and offer congrats, or offer their shoulder, instead of a sigh and a tired ear. Look, right now I’m trying to think what is going on in my life. I’m wondering if I’m the end product of some disease unknown to man, a powerhouse that devours the mind and destroys the body. I find myself looking around more, and paying less attention. I am wasting away my life yet observing more than an artist who needs inspiration. Less productivity and more procrastination are the dropping and rising variables that I deal with in my life. It’s somewhat depressing, to listen to someone lecture on about education and other necessities of my life, and then snap back like a fatigued rubber band ten minutes later on a different subject. I just want to stop everything, and cry. Let everything come gushing out; let all the anguish, all the depression go aboard down my river of tears. I’m covered with battle scars and my face is consisted of war paint, I wear a heavy shield, with full armor, all allow me not to reveal or show any pain. I throw away my sword, tossing it aside and take into my hands a pen. The listening shoulder is a blank piece of paper, and thru strokes, the ink across the paper transforms into therapy. The chair I reside in is the couch, and thru metaphors I cry to the paper to release me from torment. I never want to stop learning, so that my well of knowledge never runs dry, yet I lack the ability and skill to learn more. So I try my hardest and put myself through a self-torture in order to help myself later. Cries of frustration vibrate against the walls of my room. I am so angry at my inability to perform. I know this is my entire fault and that I am just using everything in my power as an excuse. I am reaching out at anything to soften my fall from my own stupid jump. Everything I grab I throw at the public as excuses, and all just fall lifelessly to the ground. I wish I could sprout wings and rescue myself from this drop into total failure, yet my wishes hold as much potential as I do, and they go nowhere, just as I am likely to do.
   On a different aspect, I’m searching right now. I’m dying from exhaustion on my life long search for that person that visits me in my mind, when euphoria sets in. I slam my fists into the desk as the thought of how long I have spent my life being burnt looking for that dream. I want to go back in time, to my younger self, before my innocence was lost to the demons past failures have released, and find that child and scream into his face to stop what he is doing and not go on. I would grab that boy by the shoulders and ask what does he think he is doing. They will only hurt you, only let you down and destroy the confidence and self esteem that you have so much of now. I would be so angry at him as well, for going forward so innocent and blind so full of optimism and hope, flying gracefully towards his promised future, only to be shot down by gun happy hunters. I would try my hardest to hold myself back from striking out at my past self, for doing what I had done, and causing every moment I suffer as my own death where my afterlife is spent in the confining Hell. Looking around, I know this isn’t possible, yet I think I am living in a subjective Hell. Moments in my life, when I am with certain people who enjoy my company, feel like I am in heaven. I feel the white aura hug and love my surroundings, and I feel the inspirational warmth in my body overflow out and into everyone. I love those moments when I am with that one person in my life that I truly feel happy with, unlike I do with any of my best friends and everything around me blurs out and it is just a one on one session of bliss. Rather it be words, or simple looks, all that matters is the person is in front of me with every move and every word. I treat everything they do and say as the branch that I reach out to as I fall off a cliff. I hug onto that branch with every ounce of strength and my body, knowing full well that when I let go I fall towards my happiness’ death. Those are the moments I wait for, the times when I am staring off into space are the times I am watching my mental clock count down to those pleasurable times. Unfortunately those times are few and far between and the ones that occupy most of my time is the selective Hell. Those times in my life are the hot poker to my mind, burning their grotesque picture deep within my brain, eager to pop out at all the wrong moments like an eager Jack-In-Box. Those are the times when everything in life stops and suddenly I find myself sweating tears. The world around me grows hot and fire licks at my clothes and at my face. My tormenter hides ahead, ready at any moment to kick behind my knees, yet unwilling to show me their true face. They shove their pitchfork at me from a distance beyond eyesight, and their cruel pleasured laughter reverberates in my ears for an eternity. Although fortunately these times are not as long as my trips into heaven, they are frequent and they infect my nights as well. Night, my most vulnerable time, my own mind becomes my enemy. The best internal friend that I posses nightly stabs me in the back as it replays my greatest failures, stretching them out into an eternity, adding more pain than I feel needed. I go to my bed, to let myself fall into the motherly hands of sleep, only to release I have just released myself into the talons of a hungry nightmare. Scared I try to escape, yet my lead eyes weight down my entire body, and the talons piece into my skin, making escape a forgotten memory. My hopes are changed and I soon wish for waking. Coming out of that horrid dream is my rapture, and waking up is something I wait for the moment my head touches my pillow. When I seek the time of heaven, I seek something I feel is out of my reach, and my optimism that has willed me to survive, disappears and fails to return. A magician I am not, and a willing participant I am never. So I just hope the person that I finally end up with comes to me first, and catches me before I fall back and run away. I hope that the four letter word I go searching for in the dark will not flee me at the moment of its revealing. I also hope that the next time I go out into the shadows looking for what I want, the flashlight in my hands does not die out. I hope that it doesn’t become the premonition of what is going to happen to me in the foreseeable future. All this hoping and wanting is far ahead of me now, before I do any of this, I must find it first, and for that, I feel I am ill equipped.
   These are the two things that occupy the majority of my thinking now. Two thoughts that compared to the world’s problems are but crumbs. These two problems fly in a pattern in my mind as vultures. Collectively they act together to pick away at everything I have worked for, and together they try to see exactly where they can push me before I go sliding off the edge. Though the life that circles around me doesn’t allow that to just be the only things on my mind. Life around me insists to put much more on my feeble mind. Life is not happy with what is going on, so it takes it into its own hands to make everything out to be a tragic dramatic play. Life must force as much pressure as possible, enough to insure that in the end it will go on, and I will not. The dam that surrounds my grip on reality is growing a crack, and the pressure inside is building. I pray that someone sees the water leaking out and eases some of the water out, to fix a life-treating problem. Yet I hide my dam from everybody so that they don’t have to deal with any problems other than there own, which I know they all posses. For I am more than willing to help them, than I am to let them help me.

   Time for me has run out, and my brain is dried and dying. Thanks for listening.