It has taken me over a month to get here. Losing count of how many breakdowns and crisis I’ve gone through. I’ve been wandering off but getting nowhere. Staring at a blank page but whatever it is, it chooses to keep silent. And like a broken record, I remain untouched.
I feel trapped. Not lost, for somehow reason seems to follow me as it battles to keep me sane. Where do I go from here? A reasonable question as time becones both my enemy and friend.
I don’t know where I’m headed but I’m waiting. Waiting for my destination as I live each moment with every emotion and thought. But whatever I’m headed seem far ahead…too far as if time has chosen to stop and I, catching my breath in the shadows.
I ask, what’s wrong with me? I break down at the thought of my imperfections. Listing my failures …I can’t seem to break free, I’m a prisoner of my thoughts, thus holding the key to freedom. Alas, it all comes back to sensibility.
Honestly, I ask, how on earth I managed to get here. Forgetting that life…oh, life, It’s bigger than any ‘hows’. Beside, asking how has so far got me nowhere.
So what’s next? Oh, I wish I knew. I may have a broken record player, but my melodies still remain to play.