What kind of fuckery is this?

by

4-9-10

Lately I’ve been feeling defeated. Like, maybe there’s no point in fighting.

I’ve already been broken, what reason do I have to go on?

Quote of the day:
“What kind of fuckery is this?”
~Amy Winehouse

This sensory deprivation and my imagination are starting to get the best of me. I just day dream and night dream and when I ain’t dreamin’ there’s nothing in between. I’m so far removed from action that it seems like a fairy tale. Something that other people do…They do it well. Out of performance shape. Totally forgot what it takes. It’s like a mirage and these 2 years are a desert. And I don’t understand why I’m not spoken for. This damp dark cell is lonely. I’m innocent. No real reason for being here. I miss sight, touch, smell. I think back and in my left ventricle this destitution from a blood tear. But here I am. Just here. Not spoken for. Just fear.

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