A Dying Wish

I bear the seed
of ruin
A golden age
turned to stone;
Elysium, to dust

For this,
a tragic journey
A vision
of a dying embrace
Scattered earth
Silence

Where Echonia wept,
I sank into the silent desert

Fallen am I,
in the solitude
of a broken promise
I cried alone

My empyrean is a scar
from the memory of a beautiful life
Forever was her name

Fulfillment lost
in a lifetime of regret
Ornate peace
would cover me,
as I would die now
for one last wish

Our hearts will not pine for an ocean made by God...

Spending the last two days getting things done has made me realize just how lazy I can be.  I've renewed my registration on my Jeep, Gotten my Texas Driver's License, made both a doctor and dentist appointment, cleaned my entire living area, cleaned my Jeep, started cleaning the interior upholstery...

It's kind of ridiculous to still have this feeling in my chest the entire time.  It just won't go away.  I feel so restless, as if I've just now realized that I'm completely alone, and have been wasting away.  I would say it's a positive development, only I know that I'm ignoring everything and trying to use its energy to push me forward.  That's not exactly a positive thing, although, in the end, it may be.

Asphyxia and Ataraxia

I'm trying to break myself of obsessive thoughts.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is hard to practice on yourself.  But, I'm trying.  I've always known that obsessing over the same things over and over make me feel worse, contribute to my anxiety and generally make me kind of crazy most of the time.  But I have always had a certain comfort in it, as if it's something I can hold on to.  Something I can hold on to while it destroys my psyche from the inside.

I want to meet a girl who interests me.  I don't want flings, but at the same time, I do.  I just want intimacy, even if I know it will be temporary.  I feel kind of stupid admitting that.

I know that I have a personality that draws people in, when I can harness it and channel it correctly.  I've always had that.  I just need to force my own self-image out of my head, and focus on the world around me, and try harder to... not try so hard.  To be honest, regardless of whether anyone agrees with it or understands it.  Since when did I care so much about being accepted to the point that I filter my personality through it?  It's pathetic.  I have convinced myself that there isn't anyone out in the world that could possibly reflect my own level of being.  Can that really be true?

The Ocean

It's funny: The things that trigger mental breakdowns are always unexpected and trivial in a sense.

I have a very deep fear of abandonment.  I never truly realized that until recently.  I have a very real fear of being alone.  This is something I never really considered, because I'm so used to solitude.  But, I desperately want to find social fulfillment.

My anxiety has reached epic levels.  It reminds me of being young, and being afraid, and being clueless as to what to do next.  But, I'm older now, and I've dealt with this kind of instability before.  And, I have more wealth of knowledge and confidence to draw upon than I ever did before.

Over the last few years, I've let my brain become swollen with the anxiety that comes with always worrying about being judged.  Always worrying about what others think.  Always trying to placate or ply or just remain copacetic.  When I was younger, I didn't much care.  But my self-image has been thoroughly shattered.  I never bothered to even think about rebuilding it.

I can never get past what others will see when they look at me.  It makes me hate myself, hate my choices, hate my detriments.  The ironic thing is that with this overflow of panic at such a sustained rate, it has brought thoughts up that I completely forgot about.  It has made me realize that I need to be myself in every situation, to be present and to speak my mind to some extent.  Not because I want to fit in, or to be perceived a certain way, but because it allows me to feel better about myself.  It helps me feel like I don't exist on another plane of existence.

I never thought I would get more insecure with age.  But, I never thought I would destroy so many facets of my life, and end up a lonely outcast.  The more I force myself not to say 'anything', but to say something from my heart in situations, the more I feel like I exist in the world.  The more people treat me like I'm real.  Even if they don't like it or think it's strange.  At least I'm real.

I almost can't contain it all.  It's like I'm having a nervous breakdown, but at the same time re-opening a part of myself.  Pandora's box, with all it's evils and pure energy, is coming out.