Paperthin closet.

I pushed myself to believe I am. That I can, that I must, that I will. A part of me chose this. A part of me didn’t do anything to prevent it. All along I’m just trying. Actually I’m not. I’m ignoring and fleeting – Fleeting downward spiral.

Then I found light – A light that would guide me not back but beyond. But the light flickers, and so is my hope that I can bring it, or rather it bringing me to something not within the deep slumber of this six feet under. Up to now I hope. Pessimist and self-pitying am, like every other light, will just fade away and leave me in the midst of this self-induced plague. And so, Kyle Patrick’s voice still echoes and it’s killing me.

Then there comes the unexpected inevitable which brought the realization: The realization that I am still closet hiding hurting. Unsought resurfacing, confrontations futile, emotions in turmoil – All my fault and always has been and always will be. In the end, hate and gratitude I sent thee but it’s too late for fixing anything. Now I’m back to Daphne and Derby. I’m back to self-pity and to the closet I am hiding this forever feeling.

I’m not yet ready for The Overture.

Toodles.

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~ by protagonist on March 25, 2014.

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