Things feel like they're falling apart. I feel like a ripped pair of jeans that have been sewn back together so many times that all that remains is a hem. There is nothing left to pull it all back together.
I hate this feeling.
I'm trying to make sense of it all.
Trying to believe that there's a reason.
But my answers don't console
and my solutions don't equate.
I'm seeking comfort in the superficialities of life and fighting off my real issues.
I'm sick of fighting.
I want to be a child again.
I want to be in my bed on a Saturday morning.
Giddy with the prospect of life's possibilities.
Ignorant to life's cruelty and vulgar sense of humor.
I want it all to work.
It isn't.
