Cadmium

Yes, that is right, the focus should strictly be on me. Your guile is unwavering, but I have had my fill of doubts, and so far it is only nesting its tendrils on to my being, biding its time, holding on to what is beyond, and to be honest I only give it a little bit of reprieve because it is somewhat harmless. For now, at least. There will come a time where I will need it, and there will also come a time when I need to fend myself in order to discard, but that is none of your concern. My wellbeing is a byproduct of my own environs. These stimuli is only here because of me; I asked for it. So it is best to venture out on my own. Always on my own. Best for me to be on my own. It will always be the case, no matter what happens. When I tried once to argue against my best judgement, it ended with defeat and utter humiliation. Scraps of it still visible to this very day. So fighting my own battles the best way I know how is to accept that some things will never be deterred, regardless of how loud I scream my lungs out. But you...

You are a parasite. You loiter at people's vulnerabilities like a vulture, camping at the site of least resistance, offering no sanctuary, and waiting for the right time to swoop in. I have learned to despise you. I have to. It is the least I can do for you, because you ruin the tides of my own ebb and flow. And still you somehow make it seem like you are relevant. That I need you. I do not. I refuse. I falter because I am human, and I am human because I falter. The ropes would not save me, the spirits, the pills, and the sex. Over the last twenty years it has steamrolled into a ball of savage light, fast and blinding and confrontational, so at one time I believed that the best thing to do was to simply escape, find a way to walk away, and when that failed I then reckoned that the best thing was to acclimate, to be one of them, learning their ways and loving it begrudgingly, and so when that too slipped away, I decided to settle (Maslow would have rolled in his grave) and I became whole again in a setting of fantasy. Nevertheless I found that simple respite quite reassuring despite the case thereof. That lie has been my one and only refuge, and I fucking loved it. That served as my ultimate place of worship. Far and away from the maddening whispers of the hoi polloi.

For the life of me I could never understand why some people decide to turn to others when the only person capable of helping is your own self. I am not talking about motivation. I am talking about restitution. We are at the precipice of being our own protagonists. Our lives, our story, one journey, single outcome. Girls who choose fire over mud is a viable sign of toxicity, and one must learn to be more capable of restraint when it comes to the matters of the heart, lest you drown in depravity. You hit a wall that hits back. The simple solution is to walk away. Walk away with tears in your eyes and say your peace. Do whatever it takes to lift yourself back up. No one will do it for you except you. No one. The world is flooded with shattered souls, but you still are the main protagonist. This is your journey. That little excursion will not matter once you have achieved something else that pulls you away from the pugilistic walls. Pull yourself out from there. Lift your bootstraps up and start stepping on fools, one stride at a time, and do not miss.

I walk a lonely road, and the only reason why is because that line was tailor made by me for me alone.