So I’m fairly sure that I’ve fucked up, and yes, you can be sure it hurts. I’m fairly sure I’ve crossed the line into alienation and I’m fairly sure that I don’t want to be here. The more I think about it, the more apparent it seems. And it’s not just me who seems to be picking up on it - those around me are too. That’s really very, very scary when you’re stuck, in the middle of trying for transmutation, and you’re trying to be this huge, amazing thing when you’re trapped being little more than an ant in a maze. I’m really making an effort - I truly am, I’m trying to do everything I said I would because I think it’s worth it to do it. Not only that, I’m sick of being stuck in the hole I am. Right now I’m trapped in an infinite feedback loop of boredom in literally everything, finding everything in the world - even that I love, to be mundane and stupid. Everything is a bore. I can’t bring myself to do anything because I know I’ll just become frustrated with knowing I love something but not being able to feel anything except for absolute apathy for it. Nobody deserves to be stuck in that hole. Not only that, but it’s really fucking scary to be facing down the barrel of a gun looking imminent to go off, facing down the hole of being 21 and unemployed, and losing even more of what keeps me here. The concept of being out of work really, blatantly rips at my heartstrings and makes me want to scream into the infinite blue about fucking nothing, because really, fucking nothing is all I have left inside. What was once a beautiful garden is now swiftly becoming a heavily wintered derelict eyesore, an affront to all that is beautiful and right in the world. I can feel myself becoming evermore bitter, and evermore dissatisfied with the world around me. I can’t make ends meet and every day I’m stuck here I’m slipping further and further from my goals. I’ve got a lot of goals, as unspoken as they remain, and seeing them once more go by the wayside fucking kills me inside even more still. I don’t want to be like this, no way. I know I’ve got infinite potential, everybody always tells me that, and I used to believe it. I know I’ve got at least some potential that’s being laid to waste by me not being able to give the world my gifts. Let’s face it, I’m not dumb by any space of the word, but right now I can feel my brain becoming a stagnant swamp of cynicism and hatred, a poignant reminder that once I wasn’t like this. Maybe it’s just a phase, and maybe I’m just losing the forest for the trees - but the taste of regret lingering in the roof of my mouth and the air of disappointment in myself basically ensures I stay here, trapped, forever. I know I’ve done wrong - as hard as I’ve been trying otherwise and I hope that it is clear that I have been trying to the very best of my ability - and living with that cross to bear is horrific. It’s like being forced to be a martyr. Nobody needs that. Nobody needs that painful reminder looming over their head when they’re doing their best to honestly improve themselves and sort their shit out so they can get back to what is good in life, and actually feel some emotion except the overpowering nothingness of apathy. It’s a surreal feeling being trapped in limbo between apathy and depression - it’s almost like you’re observing yourself from outside, watching things you know should crush or elate you, and only being able to feel a dull blankness inside your veins. Little more is exciting, and the longer this goes on, the further it seems hope is a lost beacon in an angry sea. In fact, it feels like right now I’m stuck as a rope in a perpetual tug-of-war between Kansas’, “Carry On Wayward Son”, and Jimmy Eat World’s, “What I Would Say To You Now” - both songs which have became increasing important to me as I try to fight for air in the molasses of life. Music has become most of what I have left, being that in a last-ditch effort to actually pay my bills and try and improve my life somewhat I’ve been forced to put my camera gear up for sale - now that stings to even think about. It’s basically the only thing I’ve been able to feel in days. Scary, eh.

I’m staring down the barrel of 21, and I’m fearing I may have broken a promise I made to myself. That, my friends, I fear could very well be the thing that breaks me. Living with regret of bad decisions is one thing, but living with that is horrific… may the universe have mercy on my tattered soul, and guide me to where I need to be to grow. I’m on my knees, I’m begging of you - let me be everything I can be. Let me show you what Benjamin Alldridge truly is.

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 8th, 2008 at 12:20 am and is filed under General Shit, Personal. It has 879 words. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.