Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Well This Wasn't Supposed To Happen At All

So this, for lack of better wording, sucks. Reader, this is absolute ass.

Yeah, you just read that. It's ass.

I live on hope.  I couldn't dream to live without it. Yet I find my self compellingly thriving to exist in a world where it is nonexistent. Because where I am right now, is off the grids. It's long past happiness and just shy of torture. It's limbo.

I am living in Limbo. The world of existentially nothing, where you are neither lost or found. Where you are what you are deep down. And no one can save you. And I find myself falling deeper and deeper into this pit of despair.

Hell, I don't even think Limbo wants me anymore. I'm actually clinging to it for dear life.

Because I gave up everything. I was forced to give up everything.

Has someone ever offered you a chance? A chance to change it all and redefine who you are and what you live for?

My doctor offered me a chance for survival. I was falling at a slow state, but the matter was that I was still falling. I had fooled myself into believing that I was upright. That things were better. There was change on the horizon.

So I snatched that opportunity with as much gusto as the moment could summon. To be better? To get my pain free moment? Even for only a few seconds of relief, I would not let that pass. But I should have.

I switched my toxin. The toxin that had saved me, but not cured me. I tossed it away like a piece of driftwood that was wet. And I stumbled toward the shores of a new hope.

But my new hope was fake. It was a shattered storm before I even took a breath. And I should have guessed that from the pain. From the vertigo. From the shadows flitting across and attacking my vision. But I didn't. And I let it go. And I embraced the new. And it knocked me right back to the beginning.

The ground is cold and my feet are wet, trying desperately to grip the pavement. To feel something solid, something I could count on and hold onto.

But it's all gone. And I'm just stuck in the pits. Curled up and ready to throw the towel in again. And maybe this time I will.

Because I'm so tired. And I may just quit. Because two and a half years was enough for me.