Why me?
Why must I be stuck in this life of work and sorrow, bore and loss?
It’s simple:
I am one of the doomed, unlucky few; wandering through this atrocious life so monotonously and lonely.
Please just spare me.
I used to be so full of hope but that light inside, that hope, is slowly diminishing; withering away every day, disintegrating ever quicker.
Oh, how I long to leave this place…
I cannot do this anymore.
I want to give up: stop writing and end this all.
But then, I write once again, my purpose in life is renewed.
I have entered the world of the sane once again.
Once again, I’m back to that sweet place.
I know one day, I’ll go back to the way I was; to that dark place where I thrive.
I just have to wait—the insanity bides it’s time waiting to pounce, to rip, to drag me back into the abyss, into its dark clutches where:
I am truly at Home.