On this night as I lay alone in my bed, waiting for sleep to find me I found instead a train of thought. It wasn't the first time I have wished for death but in it's own way...
Sometimes I wish I had some terminal disease because most days, the waiting and the unknowing is relentless and I wish that the end were in sight. As it is life is a game of chance. Tomorrow I could die by getting hit by a bus; a rock could fall from the sky and put an end to me. But more than likely I'll find myself sitting here again unable to sleep. It's so hard to live without hope, without something to look forward to and for me there's isn't anything. When I was younger I used to naively believe that I had something to give to this world, that I was special, but the years have wore on me and I feel thin- mentally and physically. Writing isn't enough anymore. I need a new perspective.
I need an adventure. I need to find my thirst for life again. More than anything lately I've been daydreaming about running away from this town, this city and looking for something new- but there is always that part of me that knows that I'll never find what I want in this world. That's what hurts me the most, knowing in my heart that what I truly desire is something that can't ever be.
I feel so selfish. So spoiled. So stupid. I hate the thought of writing this thinking about all the things that I do have in my life, all the people in my life... It wouldn't be fair for me to discount their wonderfulness.
*********
She can quench all of her thirsts, satisfy hunger but there were parts of her that could never be tamed. She knew it, like it was something in the air, something was missing. In the winter months she would freeze, even before a fire. In the summer she boiled. She lingered by windows and glanced about when she walked outside. She was searching for something that she could not see or touch. It was something even she could not name but it was out there, she believed it with all her heart. She was forever searching, for this missing piece of her. She would never be whole without it. Never.
Sometimes I wish I had some terminal disease because most days, the waiting and the unknowing is relentless and I wish that the end were in sight. As it is life is a game of chance. Tomorrow I could die by getting hit by a bus; a rock could fall from the sky and put an end to me. But more than likely I'll find myself sitting here again unable to sleep. It's so hard to live without hope, without something to look forward to and for me there's isn't anything. When I was younger I used to naively believe that I had something to give to this world, that I was special, but the years have wore on me and I feel thin- mentally and physically. Writing isn't enough anymore. I need a new perspective.
I need an adventure. I need to find my thirst for life again. More than anything lately I've been daydreaming about running away from this town, this city and looking for something new- but there is always that part of me that knows that I'll never find what I want in this world. That's what hurts me the most, knowing in my heart that what I truly desire is something that can't ever be.
I feel so selfish. So spoiled. So stupid. I hate the thought of writing this thinking about all the things that I do have in my life, all the people in my life... It wouldn't be fair for me to discount their wonderfulness.
*********
She can quench all of her thirsts, satisfy hunger but there were parts of her that could never be tamed. She knew it, like it was something in the air, something was missing. In the winter months she would freeze, even before a fire. In the summer she boiled. She lingered by windows and glanced about when she walked outside. She was searching for something that she could not see or touch. It was something even she could not name but it was out there, she believed it with all her heart. She was forever searching, for this missing piece of her. She would never be whole without it. Never.
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