It’s hard to fathom this feeling, and I’ll be honest. It isn’t easy. Some days, the sun shines bright and the birds chirp and I’m on cloud nine. Other days are drenched in sunshine and anger because that’s who I am. That’s who I’ve always been: cigarettes and black coffee.
I embarked on this adventure to expand my universe 44 days ago, and so far, all it’s done is force things into perspective for me. I did quit smoking, the way I started. Fast and easy, because that’s how things in my life have always fallen into place.
I wish I could explain this mania that overtakes me every once in a while, that makes my heart ache like it’s never ached before, and leaves me breathless with the realization that I’m nothing more than a childish brat trying desperately to live a life that means nothing because I’m so captivated by the meaningless things in life.
I’ve tried so often to write meaning, to capture meaning, to be something more than I am, but this is me: laid bare.
I am not who I want to be.
I am not who I’m meant to be.
I’m nobody near who I was.
And that’s the scary ass truth. The terrifying thought that haunts. The anger that pervades through my being – that my life is nothing more than a pretty lie.
I’m sorry is the main thing that really beats through me at the moment. Sorry for a lot of things, mostly at the way I whine. Like I said, and as you probably know, some days are easier than others. Mostly, it’s an endless struggle trying to find the happy in the gray skylines.
Today, it’s a little harder than usual, but the inspirations flowing and I haven’t written poetry like this in a long time, and that makes me mildly happy, but also terrified. If that even makes sense.
truth be told, i’m losing track of the days.