I sit alone staring at the four walls of my tiny one room apartment. Although it is a small place in this big city. It is a roof over my head and I am warm, life is good.
I close my eyes and see clearly what the future has in store for me, love, peace, prosperity and health. My well being is important to me. I don’t have much to give as I don’t have much myself. I try my best to be kind and loving towards others. It seems as though I’ve been giving and giving. Not that I mind giving, but days like this I just wonder what is it all for?
My life is simple and perfectly imperfect for me. I like the small space I call home, its just enough for me. I am open to receive what the Creator has planned for me. I have a gift that he has chosen for me. The only thing is I isolate myself. In the world of writing I tend to get caught up in the familiarity of my own stories. They are what bring me comfort and understanding.
I am just a small part to something that is much much bigger, I’m desperately trying not to fuck it up. I have come so close to many goals but something inside me keeps saying; What’s it all for? Why do you even try?
I myself, my own worse enemy at times. Creeps up all of a sudden, just when I am sure of my intentions and standing on my own two feet with confidence. The demons I struggled with in my head won’t let me be. It’s like a nightmare that never ends.
I know it is just fear and fear is not real, but why does it feel so alive. There are days that I feel like I am on top of the world, doing what I love to do, and feeling the joy life has to offer.
How do I stop these mind games? I know I have struggled with mental illness, why can’t it just go away and leave me alone. The answers are all inside me I don’t need to go far to find them. I know that I have acquired ways to cope. But, some days I just wonder what is this all for?