Triparte

For the truth is, I am tired. I am worn. I am exhausted. I sit here, in the warmth, in the solitude of my own cave as I write this pathetic piece of prose. This pathetic piece of prose that is written on a digital screen while more digital vomit is excreted from these speakers. I am not only tired, but I am angry, an anger that I have not felt in years, an anger that has manifested itself implicitly but is now only making itself known through physical symptoms which is wearing me down. They wear me down and they wear me out.

"And it wears me out, it wears me out, it wears me out.... It wears me out....."

I'm worn, I'm torn, I'm tired. I'm sick, I'm rigid, I'm perspired.

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Deception is a deadly fiend, a fiend that injures ones self as well as others. It angers me when deception towards me is directed towards others, showing one's true nature. Everything that I once knew, I once cherished almost, my reasons perhaps were eliminated in a bout of insanity which I am still insane about. This pathetic piece of prose is centred around this deception again, but it wears me out and I am tired. I am so very very tired.

"Lie, lie, liar, liar you pay for your sins"

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I can write a mere sentence and miss out on pages of detail. I can write a paragraph and miss a crucial point. I can speak in this form for pages and pages and reach no conclusion. I can write like this and not ever reveal a piece of information that is some insight into my condition but I cannot. What a naked thing it is to let somebody into your head, to let them feel your skin through the text they have written, let them touch the fabric of your emotions that you wear as well as smell the blood of your truthfulness. Let someone embrace your emotional scars, weep at the roots of your problems and overall let your heart seep through the words to submerge someone else into you. It is scary, it is intense and I could not do it. To write in ambiguity and vagueness is my forte, so forgive me if I can never provide this to the individuals who read and absorb my writing.

"A coma might feel better than this"