Exhaustion.

Like the picture above, I am tattered and I am frayed. I am exhausted. I am run down, I am flailing in the wind. I have no idea why this morning it hit me like a brick in the face. Maybe it is a combination of moving, reliving, and starting again. I just don't know what the fuck I am doing! Am I grasping at staws here, hoping for the best? My spirit is weakened because once again I am hoping for the best. I have been doing that since I was 12. Hope is such a funny word. So much rides on those 4 little letters. I have exsisted because of those words. I don't want to do it again. I feel I have aged overnight. Granted I haven't been sleeping all that well, haha. But, I am weary to the bones. Yes, I know I started a sentence with 'but'. Strike me down grammar gods.

This isn't an emotional low; or a bi-polar moment by the way. It is reality. Not understanding the point of exsisting. I want to exsist, I want to live, I want to continue doing whatever the hell I am supposed to be doing. However for the love of Pete, what the hell is it? What is the lesson I am supposed to be learning here? Why can't I get a grab of the ever ellusive internal peace? How many lessons is one person supposed to be handed? Honestly, have I been handed that much that I have to be questioning my point of exsistance? "Whaa, whaa, whaaa," says that kid born into a brothel in India. "Hear the violins?" says the girl in Africa just about to get circumsized. "Fuck to you," says the gay teenager in Iran as the noose goes over his head. I should be greatful that I can hang a tattered flag from my balcony, albeit with anticipation of what the consequences are for doing so. I should be on my hands and knees praising the sun, God, Allah, Shiva, or Budda for allowing me to wake up and smell the new day with a smile on my face. I just feel I am missing something. I want to grab it, I am reading the signs, sorting through my muddled thoughts, looking into the faces of strangers, listening to the words of friends and loved ones, tasting the wind, touching the earth. I keep walking into a glass barrior.

I am being dumb again aren't I? I am positive everyone asks these same questions, thinks these same thoughts, imagines a better exsistance. I am not wanting guilded streets or to roll around naked in a pile of cash. I just want direction. I keep asking the cosmos for a mentor, or a leader, or a guide. I don't ask much of the energy around me, I create my own. By creating my own positive hopefull energy I have (to put it in vulgar terms) 'cockblocked' death. Lordy, I am rambling. I have no idea what the hell I am trying to convey here. I think that is the point.