Despair

i know i can’t do it.

every week for the last few, the days passed quickly, eating up time and the spaces we left behind. the smiles, the laughter, those moments shared – they slip away, all turning into candy-sweet memories by the ticking of the clock. being happy has the tendency to make time go faster, and you forget all the tasks at hand and so it was – i soon found myself gladly putting my life on hold to spend time living, and not merely existing.

but.

days when i am alone, and i see things happening around me and those words appearing in front of my eyes, i feel the same old. it wraps its slimy tentacles around me, sneakily circumnavigating its way into the hairline cracks of my self, piercing me, pulling away at all the ‘perfect’ masks i put up. i see what i feel, and discover a terrible aching for the future, more than i thought i ever will.

when it comes down to the crunch, when a bump – even a tiny, seemingly-harmless one – appear, my shortcomings will rear their ugly heads and kill everything bright and cheery within sight. it does not matter how, or why, or when – the intensity increases when whatever is at stake is higher. with each occurance i see before my eyes, i find myself so lacking, i tried to change – really, i did – but i can never be….

oh, how my steps falter and tremble. one step forward, and many steps back.

and now when the realisation hit me again and again, i want to cry.

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