The Ambiguous Odyssey

It is one thing to state you love yourself and a whole different thing to literally love yourself. At eighteen I’ve learned that loving yourself is such a hard battle, yes, a battle. A battle between the taste you’ve acquired and the tang you deserve. You can’t transcend into a higher level if you are held back by all the expectations. No, this can’t be blamed on society this is us. We chose to let our happiness constantly be a verdict made by whoever we have grown fond of. It is time we arise from the rubble we have created subconsciously. What we have become is our own doing. Playing the blame game takes us nowhere and I know this very well, I’ve been playing it for as long as I can remember. I know writing how strong I wish to be won’t actually make me strong, and I know actions speak louder than words, but I believe having my words visible to the world might pressure me to pressure me. We are stronger than we think we are and yes, maybe we’ve long lost who we truly are, but nothin

I have learned that a fresh start must start at your mind before any other place. Trust me the decisions that are made from the inside are so much harder than those externally edited yet much less visible. It takes 21 days for an action to become a habit, that's 21 days too long. It will take me 21 days to be me again but this void is so compelling to continue living in. I am trying to motivate myself, to create an illusion of a finish line but I know too fondly that there is nothing. I mean doing the bare minimum drains me, how will I push myself forward? I genuinely do not know, and from some perspective I pity myself for letting myself fall this low and even worse not pushing myself back up. So I am sorry me but the days are too long and we're together for 24 hours too long and I can't think of more escapes from me. I am sorry for all the years I pushed me past my limits to only land us here. I am sorry for selling myself out. I am sorry for the way this turned out. I am

I see you there. I see you there breathing. I see you there being. I see you with my eyes closed shut and my room all dark. I see you not through sight but through every other sense. I see you passing by untouched. I see you being unmoved. I see you seeing me yet not acknowledging me at all. That’s the thing about the past it grips on to us and refuses to let go. I’ve been running in a loop for too long and I am impatiently waiting for the end of this to come. I am waiting for the day I no longer stare blankly at the wall reliving those treacherous memories. I know that day will come eventually but I need eventually to be right now because I can’t bear one more nightmare, one more false hope. I hope that the choices I am making in the now won’t haunt me like my earlier choices that elevated to mistakes that bruised my mind. I hope I don’t let myself down again. I hope I can gain back my lost strength to carry myself to my desk to open my journal to write down my prolonged voyage w