The Barricade

I feel low, maybe sad, I don't know.

I want to journal more, I want to travel, I want to have goals and believe in myself that I can pursue those goals. I want to be nicer to myself and care less about the judgments/opinions of others. Even as I write this, I am judging my literacy, my process, the act of journaling at all. There's something gross inside me and it hurts me everyday.

A bully maybe

A fear, anxiety

Is it me though? and if it is, how am I supposed to live my life wholly without being utterly torn down and sabotaged by my own thoughts, emotions and physical feelings that can't be explained but nevertheless, exist-- I feel them deep inside my guts.

They're all looking at me and thinking I'm a bad person right off the bat just by my looks, maybe the way I carry myself.
I used to hold this head high and pounce with each step.
I've curled inside a visible cocoon that everyone can see.
A game of hide and seek, but everyone already took all the good spots.

They all smirk at me as they walk by as if to say, " I see you, you fool. You absolute failure. Look at you; rotting in place."

Maybe they're not thinking that at all.
But I am, those thoughts are in my head whether I project them from someone else's presence onto me, or simply 3rd degree murder my own self-esteem with these dedceptive ideas that anyone even thinks these things about me when it is, in fact, myself that thinks these things about me.

How could I have let myself down?

But what if that is what they're thinking and it is, in fact true?

Strangers aside, I believe it's true.
I believe I've been failing myself over and over.

Not facing the fears, the discomfort, the feelings, the strengths, the weaknesses-- have I truly forgotten everything I've learned and worked so fucking hard for to get this far?

I've let all the people who believe in me down because I don't believe in myself.

But what do I matter in the greater perspective of the world?

People are dying everyday from senseless acts of violence and cruelty.

The Earth is dying beneath our feet, the very ground that used to make me feel connected to every one and every thing and realize that we are all not so different. We are all kin.

But I feel more separate then ever from humanity and existence. I am stuck in this voided prison inside my own head, any and all things passing me by-- the good, bad and everything in-between.

Seriously, what is the fucking point of any of it?

Humanity is the plague that destroys that which we ought to cherish, preserve, and love deeply.
And I am a part of it, I feel the virus inside me, pulsing to take over and my days are spent desperately trying to suppress it.

I'm so, so, so tired.

"If you do what makes you happy and fulfilled, you'll see the beauty of the world from a lighter perspective", sure, I can hear that viewpoint in my head.

But again, what is the point when the evil and chaos are so much greater in mass and magnitude that all I can do is helplessly weld myself to the sidelines and watch everything burn while I make my silly paintings, travel my helpless body around to see things I'll forget in a few months.

I am hopeless, and pathetic. I've felt this before-- it made me sick back then and it's making me sick now.

All I can do, is dumbly, blindly, bumble around like a happy idiot.

And hope that this lie sinks in, and that the glimmer tints my eyes forever.

Is that living in reality, or a fallacy?