The Truth.

I write this in the midst of emotional turmoil.
I write this with trembling fingers, a heavy heart and a diseased mind.
I write this with oceanic eyes and burdens the weight of mankind.
I write this at a time when the only thing I know, is that I know nothing.
I write this under amazement. That one mans' guilt can lead him to the depths of respectability.
I write this feeling angry. Angry that someone at work, can be so cruel.
I write this with shame. Knowing that while I blame people for everything wrong in my life....I am the master of ceremonies.
I write this with guilt and hypocrisy. Today I became a person I'm ashamed of. While feeling alot of negative things about myself...I've always been proud of my morals and have stood beside myself as a man of honesty who would never go against the things he claims.
I write this with regrets. Something I've sworn to live without.

Life is at a catalyst for me.
Whether it be by my own doing, or by the doings of others less honorable I sit here with nothing. I stand in front of this computer with no road.
No ideas. No plans. No knowledge. No confidant. No shoulder. No ventilation.
I come here, with friends whom are foes. Foes who are hidden. Friends who are merely handshakes.
I sit here with rage. Aiming the barrel of blame at my forehead.

Shooting myself with whys, what ifs, and how could yous.
Tearing myself down with analyzations.
Destroying myself with disappointments.

I cannot find a name or description for this pain. I cannot find a weight or measurement for my disapproval.

Everything has broken me apart at once. My courage, my strength, and my dignity are desolate.
My mistakes, my disruptions, and my neurotic tendencies succeed in the war within me.

So I wander, and I wonder. And I wage war with the only people that matter.

This is the person I am.
Honestly. Truly.

I am a disaster to myself. And anyone else. I am expendable in any facet I can conjure up.

I cannot escape this nightmare. Because the nightmare is me.