I lay here silently thinking. Dreaming of things as they could be, how I wish they would be. I look back towards the past and regret thing that transpired. I peer to more recent times and sigh at things I wish I would have known. I look to now, as I watch my dreams form and crumble as I wake and sleep. I daydream about how wonderful things could be, how grand they were before, but am hit by the stark contrast of how they are now, and stung by my ability to ruin everything I desire.

I repel my dreams, I find ways to sabotage everything before it can grow into something I desperately want. I am distant when I should be near, attached when I should be independent. I react inversely to what a situation requires.

I’ve been asked recently why I spend so much time alone, isolated from the world. The answer is this; I hate the world, I hate living in it. I hate the people I deal with most every day. I hate doing the things I have to do to survive and function in this miserable existence.

Then, I find things, and even more rarely people, who make me smile and feel a little better about the shitty dimension I’ve been born into.

But, as I find those beautiful moments or people, I act. Ruin follows. The things Ive touched lose their beauty. The people run, or push me away, or I realize something that makes me run, or push them away. Not because I dont want the happiness I felt, but because I realize how it will end if the good moments do not.

I did something terrible in a past life, and failed to learn my lesson early in this life, and am now paying for it.

My spirit feels broken, like my mind, and heart. My soul has lost its once brilliant flame. Charred ashes all that remain inside this husk.

New growth sometimes attempts to take root, but isn’t able because of the salted earth that has become of the garden that once was me.


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