It is what it is!

I decided to remain inactive at one point expecting for the tragedy of my personality to seem aesthetically pleasing again, maybe I need a miracle or maybe I need to just sit and persevere with a joyful heart… but how can I? It's almost Christmas and the weather is still confused, almost as much as I am about who I am… and the gap, where I am now, standing behind the glass door staring anxiously at everything I want. It's painful, all the bitterness and heaviness in my chest is causing my back to ache… I'm not complaining. Everyday of this year has been the worst day of the year, sometimes I feel like I'm doing something substantial but then something(one) ruins it. Am I trying too hard? Someone once said life is like a pool, you have to let go and relax and take it a stroke at a time. I don't know how to just relax and remain totally dependent. I'm calm on the surface, everyone seems to get the vibe of warmth around me except me. I'm a restless soul, I want everything together at once and I do feel like I can do it but somewhere around the struggle I've lost my push, my will to will… dear Twentee5, *sigh*. It has been said that when you reach the end of your rope, you should tie a knot and hold on; but what happens when in the process of holding, your arms grow fatigued and your perspiring hands begin to cramp, causing you to lose your grip? There is a tiredness known only to the mind which encapsulates the spirit and invades the body to the point of what feels like an irreversible, inevitable demise, oblivion to self perhaps. Thankfully, feelings are not the final note... I have my brain but it's weak from all the pondering.

In this moment of melancholy, the desire to say what for now cannot be expressed, it hangs heavily on my chest. The need to speak in truth that which cannot yet be spoken in love, prevents me from opening the pressure valve on emotions long past the point of needing release... gagged by words not willing to be spoken, masking the pain of a spirit that lies helplessly inside me . You are not ready to receive the truth I am capable of sharing, I am not ready to speak it to my hearing either. I'm floating, falling, drowning in my mess... you cannot believe anything from me until I can conceive and accept the probability that what I want to be a lie is substantially true. If only I stepped outside the realm of deception in which I hold on to. The possibilities of me doing anything remotely connected to accepting the truth is HIGHLY unlikely so for now, it is what it is.