It’s truly the strangest thing. Finally accepting this feeling that dwells within me. The fractured future that I’m bound to. I remember when I read the first lot of statistics that told me how my life would presumably go. It was terrifying to analyse the behaviours of those with lives like mine and see the same behaviours mirrored in my own. To know that this sense of rotting interior houses itself in my DNA. Trauma has fucked up my mind and body. This whole time I had the belief that I could fit it, because I was different. But anomalies are just that, random. What was to say that I would be the lottery ticket holder? What was to say that I wouldn’t allow the trauma of past lives to tear down the life I’ve created. Because a secret I never wanted to face, I could see the fucking cracks dragging along my life and persona. I could see how the outside world saw me. Reading each of my own actions as if it was another case study in someone else’s research study. Seeing how my line of destruction sow seeds along my life. Watching them slowly implode one after the other. It’s fucking painful. Worst than any other blow I’ve withstood. This whole time as the world beat me into submission, I didn’t realise the feral untamed beast within that come clawing its way out to be heard, seen. Kept going till I didn’t see what I was doing to myself in the process. Lowering myself into the scummy gutter. I’m standing at a crossroad no idea how to barrel through the wall I’ve put in place. The path of destruction so much more appealing, easy at first sight. I can’t see the path with the wall, but I know it has to be better than the one I’m looking at. It has to be.
Flickering Dedications. 