☼ Find Me, Fix Me

So much crap to do. I feel so stupid with my whining. It's probably only going to get worse.

And all I can do is stare stupidly at the present speeding off into the distance, leaving me in a cloud of dust and confusion and helplessness, and a broken rope in my hand, frayed and tired for having to pull my deadweight. There's no rush of wind, no whistling of the wind as it grazes past my ears, no thrill of the ride of being present, there's no blood pumping through my veins in that crazy rhythm. All I can do is blink and stare blankly, wondering what happened and when that rope broke, and when this wagon I am standing on will finally slow to a stop...or if I'll fall off before that happens.

This is just my melodramatic way of saying that I feel tired, and there's so much work to do, and I feel lost at where to start.

There's probably no satisfaction from it, but perhaps only the protection of my pride and stubbornness.

But I guess I have to try. I still have to try.

Because maybe, with that little chance, it may fix these flaws, break these different masks, and I'll finally be free of my fake armor and drop my dull, burning sword and my cracked shield. Let go of the luggage that I've been carrying while trudging through life...the luggage that grows with each step; each step that sinks lower and lower into the ground as the burden grows heavier and heavier.

Maybe it's time I fight for myself, rather than fight against myself. Take off the bandages that cover my eyes and finally see the fear and enemy that isn't there.

Maybe I've come to hate myself even more. But what can I do? It doesn't really make much of a difference anymore.

I hate that I talk in metaphors.

It's just a pathetic excuse for my incapability to communicate my feelings directly. Maybe my vision is too hazy...clouded and filled with meaningless fluff. Frivolous and not beneficial to anything.

The mind is a fickle thing. Emotions, and thoughts - they can be such as well.

But after all, you still have to push that sensation inside and keep on trudging. And maybe you'll see someone along your path that is willing to walk with you the rest of the way and help carry your burden. Maybe that person will help you throw away some of the burden. Or better yet, teach you how to cast away all of this burden. Someone who can help you in your battles and defend you from yourself. Someone whom you're willing to allow to help you.

Maybe that someone is already there, walking alongside you. But you just can't see him because your head is bent downward with having to carry such burden, looking at your ever-sinking steps, that you fail to see that person walking alongside you, even though he'll have to go downhill to follow you. Because you don't realize that if you keep your head up, you'll see someone who walks your so-called lonely path; you don't realize that there are other paths that you may take. Even if you saw two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and you took the one less traveled by, there'll still be people walking alongside you, showing you those previously hidden paths that you were too blind to see.