Why do feelings and events conspire together to make what seems to be a great day on paper, is in actually a fiction of my imagination? Food I normally inhale turns into stale mud in my mouth, and each breath belabors the patheticness of my life. And then anger crashes the party, and all bets are off. For that brief moment, I attempt to conquer my life, not realizing that I am just rushing through empty wind. I will end up where i started: alone. And thats the real fear. Alone. One simple word, all lonesome. And it describes me perfectly.
So despair, you win today’s battle, but your little conspiracy isnt going to last long. I wont let it. I will vanquish you one day, my little friend. We may have become close, but you werent meant to last forever. Another day, my friend, another day.
And alone, I havent forgotten you, your day is coming too..