Some days I don’t feel strong enough to live my own life. Some how I just keep on living. Making excuses and apologies for all the promises I break. Continually making new promises to myself, just so that I have something to beat myself up over having not done it.
I want to be able to write my true feelings and hardships here. Yet I find myself censoring everything I say to the great internets. I watch people I know spread their anger, their fear, their depression among the bits and bytes. Sometimes I envy the freedom to lay open the terror, but my rational mind tells me that by saying anything it is only a cry for attention, good or bad. Although that is pretty much what saying anything is for. We speak because we want someone to listen. I find myself being quiet too often, and wishing I had remained quiet more.