I am tired of filling my truck with gas. Tired of watching The Andy Griffith show before I sleep. Tired of washing dishes only to eat off of the dishes and then wash the dishes and wash the dishes. I am tired of feeling my hair grow through my scalp. I am tired of the sun rising (but not bright enough) and the leaves falling (ever faster) and the colors changing(why is everything gray?), and I am tired of waking up again and again knowing what the day will be like. I am vomiting my repetition upon the flat line faces I pass in the same hallways, same lunch lines, same reality (that somehow doesn’t exist outside of me.)<\/p>\n
The last three days were Thursday and the day after Friday lasted ten seconds; it doesn’t even count as a weekend when the new week begins before the old week can end. I am ending. Finally, my spool of string unwound and pulled taught to the simple center.<\/p>\n
Life is like string in that sense, I guess.<\/p>\n
There are people in my current reality that hurt me, and me them. I use people. People use me. I let this happen, all the while knowing what kind of cycle I am creating. My family disrupts the cycle to only make another. I am small and large and this paradoxical ignorance is killing me. How do you break the mold you’ve built for yourself when you’re all out of acrylics? How do you leave your body without dying inside and out?<\/p>\n
How do you expect me to change? How can I rebuild the bridges I’ve burnt without wounding more people? Where is my God? Why does there need to be “A God” for me to try? I should be able to do this on my own.<\/p>\n
And the gist of all of this, the meat and potatoes this nonsense, is that I am, per usual, messing up my life and the lives of others. I don’t want to keep doing this to anyone. I am so sick of hurting people, and I have no idea how I can even begin to make up for it.<\/p>\n
My inbox will never be empty. No matter what diet I’m on at the moment, I’ll never pass up a trip to Taco Bell. I want to be a better human. I want humanity to sound like something I’m managing to accomplish.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am tired of filling my truck with gas. Tired of watching The Andy Griffith show before I sleep. Tired of washing dishes only to eat off of the dishes and then wash the dishes and wash the dishes. I am tired of feeling my hair grow through my scalp. I am tired of the … Continue reading “Edit Post\/Alt, Delete”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":25,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2144"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/25"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2144"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2144\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2544,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2144\/revisions\/2544"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2144"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2144"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2144"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}