When It Came down to it, I realised that its too easy to look away, to try and find an alternative, and yet I knew, that ultimately I can only choose one or the other.
The Now, or The Future.
And it seems like this impossible situation of living, has become the definition of living. And I cannot understand it anymore, cannot continue like this. All this has become so tiring and yet its a kind of ennui induced fatigue. Just too tired to try anything. Too tired to do anything. Too tired.
Somehow it is no longer a comfort but a nervous tension. And its Me. Its nothing to do with them/you/us/me/her/Mom/Dad/Bro. I am too quick and my defenses while adequate for the odd argument, the evenly matched discussion, is mere glass for those who deign interest, who just want to talk, who love but cannot express, who enjoy my company.
Has it always been that easy to figure me out? That euphoric state of trance that you get when you hear, when you see, when you smell. That somehow these states of mind were only the illusion, to deceive, to give you the false hope that somehow all this could last… beyond an expensive plane ticket, and an almost insurmountable distance.