Plastic, everything is plastic. Hard and synthetic to the touch, much too harsh for delicate fingertips. I’m so tired of it, this sick prison that we’ve built. We have no one to blame but ourselves and yet, here i am bitching and moaning. I can’t help it. I get so frustrated when i look beyond this bubble of a reality that there’s something so much more than this. Oh how i pine for it; it hurts more than a broken heart. I just want to be one with nature, uninterrupted by the sound of obnoxious car motors and any other unatural utterance that man has created. One with myself, so i can hear my own thoughts, my own breath, my own heartbeat…
Recently, i’ve been waking up everyday wishing i hadn’t. I don’t have the strength to deal with the daily demons of life anymore and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open for the angels. I feel guilty at work; with those wide eyes staring at me innocently, they know i dont want to be there, not because i dont love them, but because beneath this black armor there’s a distraught little girl. Too consumed in her own distorted reality. I’ve been too much of a dreamer and now i’ve floated so high that i’m fucked either way. Just perfect.
It’s all your fault.
There’s been this monkey on my back that’s been relentlessly bothering the shit out of me. With a crazy month of work and class, i’ve been so distracted that it makes functioning non-existant. I’m watching everything I’ve created, my safe little nest, fall apart in shambles, all because of this stupid little monkey. If only I could trap that ape and send him off to some faraway animal penitentiary and just forget him. Just forget him. Forget him.