Thursday, February 5, 2009

at what point...


At what point will it all come together and cultivate into something new
At what point will I allow that to happen
At what point will I accept what I know and finally reject what needs to be rejected
At what point will I stop beating myself up

I'm not really that depressed.  Just tired.  Tired of thinking.
It's not new.  My brain has been on high octane since I can remember.  Its only really bad if I'm amped about something, anything.

Over the years I've been put on different medication due to it...
You see, the thinking too much leads to insomnia.  But it never really worked.
See, I couldn't take the pills if I drank and now that I don't, I can't take them because I need to be alert.

I did take them once.
And they worked.
I remember my brain working over time and then it just stopped

~silence~

If my brain had been a room it would have been made of marble and it would have been dark, save one light, and I would have been standing in that stream of light and I would have been saying, "Hello?" my voice echoing through the room.  I slept so well that night.  I woke up with cotton mouth.  I never took it again.

It's better.
The thinking.  Well, most days it's better.
I still have moments.
And I cry.

Then I put my mask on and I answer appropriately
"How are you?"
"Me?!  I am F-I-N-E!  Fine!"

Fake

The reconstruction of Me
At what point will that end
At what point...

good night.

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