Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Wondering whether we're all doomed to spend our lives in hell.

I wish I had the words. 

Cannot for the life of me remember why emotional stability or work in therapy is important. 

  I don’t remember you anymore.

Words spill out of my palms, scattering everywhere, left behind and forgotten almost immediately. 

 "Brave."  "Strong." "Capable."

The despair of the world weighing down on me like five hundred elephants decked in gold and fury.

I remember when I would hunger for connection, lost in a sea of signals and codes I couldn't interpret, mistakenly taking words at face value that were never meant to be given a second thought. 

  I love you.

There I was again tonight Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Rather than presume to know what a human life is worth, perhaps we should simply focus on whether we're paying people enough to maintain a life of at least basic dignity and comfort. 

"When the brain perceives contact as possible, every houris too long. That is the state of enslavement. The state in which the prospect of intoxication takes over the organism.” - Lena Andersson, Wilful Disregard  

  I miss being understood. 

If something feels intuitively off, it's for a good reason. Trust it. 

  I run it ragged, this body that’s only ever seemed to weigh me down.

If you're gonna treat me right I'll take you to heaven every night

To say goodbye is hard, worse is being made to feel like you were never there to begin with. 

Where's the poetry in life laid bare? In a personality undone rather than come undone?

I live a million lives in my dreams, and each time I wake up I die a new death, forever separated from those realities I grew to love so much. 

  You haunt      my memories     my dreams     and      my pen strokes 

Don't insult my grief by giving it words. Don't pretend my pain means anything. Or nothing at all.

 "Sometimes, life just sucks."

Some love is just a lie of the heart

It was like the cheery announcer in my head went,  "Let's have a look, shall we? Ah, yes, very nice. Much to learn from here."  And then I was looking at Schroedinger's Matrimonial Bliss, which promises to be the pinnacle of wonderfulness for as long as the Instagram filter lasts. 

  Weakness is a cancer.

Took an attachment style quiz and as it turns out, I was looking to relate to the wrong attachment style.

I got a suitcase full of sin

Two days afterward, they carried Matthew Cuthbert over his homestead threshold and away from the fields he had tilled and the orchards he had loved and the trees he had planted