3-26-2011
1239 a.m.
Sitting down to write, My heart pounds through my chest wall, my brain writhes and breathing is labored. One million and one thoughts...At the epicenter of 'midlife' (when is that, anyway?) the crises are all the same, so I have discovered. It always revolves around self-doubt, conflict or the general feeling of helplessness in coping with daily survival.
And so, that is why some people turn to other things; to self-medicate. Alcohol. Pot, pills, overspending; whatever makes you feel better for a little while will make you feel worse for even longer. High for a day (at a time) in Hell for a lifetime...So, in the room where he slept the night before he had died, I think of where I stand in this confusing maze called Life. I quit 'drugs' but I am still an addict of sorts. I still harbor the inability to cope or even moderately/rationally manage nearly everything.
The world spins towards another revolution 'round the sun, and another day approaches that I have accomplished NoTHING. As death breathes life into those who are surrounded by it's omnipresence - That too (the life) will also wither and fade, and become buried under a pile of bills, receipts and short scribbles of brain mishaps on crumpled papers.
Death gives life, and life; brings Death.
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Seize The Day...
Copyright 2011 K. Anne Smith
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