4 april

In spite of all the Tiredness a life is passing, and i cannot grab ahold of it with these lethargic fingers. Sleep, sleep. I'd like to give up and lie down. But there is that Always Fight to be Cheerful and Relevant, all these fragile Expectations that each slide sideways as i reach to right another.

Fear is the greatest enemy. And it breeds silence, which births stillborn and screams. I am sometimes silent not because i am Empty, but because i am a singular organism, and not fully of you but of myself. With or without your approval and love I shall not be anything other than what i am. I shall not be like H, beautiful and pert but reaching; fragile ambition in her eyes. I want to call, Fraudulent, your affection is a Sham. In cheer I am made love to and in silence blazed over.

Have all the rest been fooled? But they are all one; they are not so many different people as i am. They do not combat silence with will and spear. Who will you be when you realize that none of Them matter? When you are faced with the unalterable burden of all your sacrificed selves? Will you let yourself saunter away, bashing itself unrecognizeable against the rocks of prestige, until one day it disintegrates, disillusioned? It is a thin frosting of selfishness which sticks us all together; as no one wishes to be alone. There is no peace; there isn't any love. For all the tricks, for all the bells and whistles, it is the loving of people that is the gimmick.