In the dark.

I cried myself into a giant pool of used tissue and I hoped that I would die there.

The growth that is required of me has seem to become unbearable and the thought of moving past these feelings doesn’t cross my mind.

I don’t know how to be and how to navigate this world and I don’t know if I ever will.

It’s the core of my frustration.

I want to know.

I want to find the yellow brick road of my own path and just sail along it while someone else drives, or pulls me.

Either way I don’t want to do the work to walk it once I get there, because I am exhausted.

I think it’s the lack of truth, the lack of justice.

The lack.

In a world that “is abundant” we seem to be running out.

Looking for life on Mars, looking for nice guys, looking for a face that’s real and recognizable. We are abundant, in lies.

I never envisioned the world to be this way towards me. When I was a child I believed everything outside of my house was here to bring me support and magic. That the flowers and trees held secrets and wishes to worlds that I’m now seeing maybe only exists on a screen. Everything seems to only exist on a screen, in fact I’m not sure what people’s lives are actually like beyond it. Maybe that’s because we all wanted the magic, so we use our phones and our computers to make it. We glue together fragile pieces to create our new selves and we put them out into the world to say “look I found the magic! Me! I found it” and then the rest of us feel mundane.

I feel mundane, and it makes me want to die, lonely and smothered by my tissues.