A Personal Onslaught

I need to get a grip on things.
I need to scratch and shred this itch that is reddening from all this hate and disgust.
I can't just run away from it until it goes away.

Maybe I can.

Even if I know it is the wrong thing to do.
What else can I do?
I have no reasons, no excuses.

Well, maybe that's not true either.

I just can't voice them, those reasons, those excuses.
Not unless they need to be a last resort.
Instead, I write what I guess you would call poems.
To me they're mostly complaints on paper.
Emotions shredded away from my skin and their blood used as ink in this pen.
This tool, as well as this paper, help me. Help me feel better.

I named this entry part way through. "A Personal Onslaught"
Keyword: personal.
As in A: I wrote this personally, and mostly B: this is really personal.
Real issues, real fears, real desperations.
I can't let this, let you, hold me back.
But it seems that this time, this first time too, I've gotten my mind in too deep.
And it's drowning.
Maybe in the idea of my twisted-positive future, I'll be more ready then.
I'm not ready now.
Now, I thought I was. I wanted too be 'cuz.
It's all I strive to be for.
Will I ever be. Sure.
Who knows, who cares.

I need a good, long break first.
One with a beach, a book, a time-out from reality.
A real, well though out distraction.
But, now all I can do is wait and see.
I'm stuck in a vacuum-pit of remorse.
Will I ever climb out and escape?
The real question is, do I want to?

 For now, what I have is such a good excuse and reason to comfort myself in.
Blanket and swaddle my rambling mind in "becauses" and "this is why(s)"
Maybe I've just adapted to having it there.
That constant shadow of thought that has me shackled from my potential.
From discovery. From flight.

I don't care. Do I want to?
Maybe.
Yes.
No.
No, that would mean I would have to face those shackles.
Stop arguing with myself.
But it's so nice.
No, need to be real about this.
But will it make anything better?
Stop.
Who knows, who cares.
You and I, I'm talking about me, you. We, just gotta be patient.
Wait, hide, run, sprint, leap, fall, flight.
It worked in the past.
Why change things now?
Everything just started getting interesting...


Happy Sunday.