Difficulties.

It's really hard to explain to people exactly why I am the way I am.
It's so hard to see a positive sometimes.
It's so easy to accidentally offend or hurt me.

It's so easy for me to just blame all the darkness on myself.
I have no one to blame but myself for the hurt people cause me.
I'm so naïve, and true to my words that I just crushed over and over again.


It's so much easier for me to just isolate myself. To just hide from the world.
The scariest thing is, I don't think I can be fixed this time, I think I am well and truly broken. Broken beyond repair, so broken, I don't even expect anyone to care. How can people tell me I inspire them, I fill them with light and other such things if I'm so cursed within myself?




I have little faith in myself anymore.

To my angry self, to the angry world.

                                       I think we all just reach that standstill at some point.
     When we just get so built up with anger that we can't help but be so frustrated at minor things.

                                                  At times like this I despise myself.

                                                I'm so angry and bitter at the world.

       Why is humanity so nasty towards itself? Who the hell are we to dictate who it is that's on top of the chain when we do nothing but destroy each  other. Why are we so incapable of setting  a
                                                        decent, fair example?

                                 And why must we avoid the real issues and pains of today,
                                    to stress about a broken nail, sometimes quite literally.


                                I am so angry at myself for things that are out my control.

                I do not control the world politicians, or dictators, yet I get so hurt over current events.
                                                           I get angry. I get bitter. 

                                          Yet another reflection of my arrogance and vanity.


I am angry at myself and I'm angry at the world.

Dear Benevolent, Transcendent, Omniscient, Supernatural force of power.

I'm feeling quite broken, (oh, my I do indeed like this font.)
My day is consisting of waking up, barely eating, breathing and brushing my teeth.

Stupid, seemingly insignificant neccessaties.


I'm lucky really. I'm just not feeling like seeing what I do have, and being grateful for it all at the moment.

I feel too enveloped, consumed by the pressing matters at hand, around me.



I wish I had a Knight in shining armour.
I'd be one grateful Damsel in Distress, but ofcourse I'd be slightly too Freudian for it to really work.
Sure, I could look pretty in a profile picture.
But despite the photographers efforts, it would always remain as Not My Best Side.


The wonders of poetry and paintings is quite glorious really, isn't it?
I laugh at the fact that so much Beauty is suffocating me, and yet I do not, or refuse to see it.



I'm nothing spectacular, but I'm sure as Hell magnifiscent, in my own little, slightly, okay humongous weird way.

Fade in. Fade out.

The Self composition of one's soul.
Am I walking on mine?
Are the steps that I force myself to take only dragging me backwards?
The reminiscence of my history is haunting my Conscious moments.

Am I allowing myself to become consumed by the things I should by rightly have let go?
If so, what is my justification for it?

Is my I.Q of 138 ever going to get me past this small box of which I dream in?

Is 'life' just one huge allegory, an anagram of what the 'Real' world is to be like when we eventually leave here?

Should I be wearing my heart on my sleeve? Or writing Love on my arms?

TO be or NOT to be something spectacular?
Am I just another face?
Or is there, indeed something magical about me?

I babble on and on, yes, indeed, I do.

And am I a cynic? Ofcourse, I am.