Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Manos Abiertas

I don't know what I'm doing. I don't understand what's going on.

For so long now, I had been able to escape the perils of my own depression, but now, no matter how begrudgingly I resist, I can feel myself slipping slowing back into the sadness that I so shamefully admitted to last night.

I've been so happy. Mostly due to one person in my life, but now, not even that is turning me about. I feel like I did this fall when I was slipping in and out of apathy and funeral of the heart. I hate this. I hate it so much. The color is draining from my face for no apparent reason and I weigh my will again and again, and all I can fathom for my melancholy is vanity.

I am that selfish. I'm that fucking selfish.

How can I march in this parade of self-pity? What right do I have to take the world on my shoulders? I have none. I am no different than anyone else, and it is a vanity to think otherwise. Yet now, all I can think about is how hapless I'm becoming. Oh, and how wickedly fast these sentiments do their work too! They are like a poison in my system, and no matter how hard I try to fight them, when dusk arrives every evening, I'm bathed in this terror of whatever the hell is wrong with me.

Lord, what would you have me do?

I have turned my face over these past 4 months and yet I still cannot escape the realities of my own failings. All I ask is to be forgiven, and as I much as I know that you've forgiven me, I cannot escape this guilt. My soul has twisted around it and if it is a sin to say so then forgive me of that as well, but I cannot prostrate myself any lower.

I just want to escape this. I want to get over myself.

but I'm so fucking vain and so fucking sick of myself.

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