Dear Life,
You are a never ending loop. And not in one of those neat, and often satisfactory, 'life-comes-a-full-circle' ways. More like a crinkly doodle. An ugly representation of my stumbling journey through this perennially blind alley you have setup for me.
As my body rapidly ages towards its eventual end, my mind somehow seems stuck. Clinging to a world that probably never existed, albeit in my ever fantastical day-dreams. Making sense of chaos is what I am supposedly good at, except when the disorderly dance is raising hell in my own personal life.
I have had a love-hate relationship with emotions. I simultaneously revel in them and am shit scared of them. Afraid of what they might do if I let go. Where would they lead me if I give them an unbridled access to my inner most sanctum.
But I trudge on. Not entirely hopelessly but with a mere wisp of enthusiasm. Somehow holding on to my sanity because, as the wise men say, this too shall pass.
To survive is not easy. To live is even tougher. But to live with hope - that is the pot of honey at the end of the rainbow.
Yours ever hopeful,
Oxyscapist