Bone weary...

Be forewarned, today is yet another vent... Yet another “last resort" ramble, which is all I have at this moment in time..

I feel so tired.. The grind, it seems so....endless. That, however, is not even the main reason for the exhaustion. I feel exhausted, because I have to fight for everything. Every day is a battle. Every step is hard. There are days, like this, where I wish for nothing more than an end to all this. When you have to fight for every minute detail, every seemingly insignificant little thing, including so many basic things that every one around you takes for granted, you keep asking yourself why- and what for. And to me, increasingly, the answer seems to be a big nought. A zilch. A zero.

I generally manage things well with my detachment. It helps me cope with so many things. I always try my best, to do the right thing, especially by everyone. And to possibly the greatest extent possible, I have managed. But, contrary to what we are brought up to believe, it doesn't change anything. And however hard you try, life will always throw something at you which will make living difficult and complicated. You can never come to a point of balance and stay there for long, because there will always be something.

Like people who suddenly decide to pretend things are different from what they are, despite their actions to the contrary, just because they have found some semblance of balance. Or people who continue to hold on to things they know are gone, and which deep down they know are less than what they deserve, and choose to ignore the better thing that is staring them in the face. Or people who think they know you, and who think that you are simple, and who think they are opening up to you, not realising that they have that feeling because of quite the opposite.

And, there will always be the people who need me. At a point, that used to give me purpose. But I am beginning to resent these seemingly desirable traits I possess. I am beginning to resent my inability to be selfish; my inability to walk on the wrong side of the line to get what I might dare to want; my inability, most of all, to WANT, because it has become so ingrained in me through experience that nothing I want will I ever get. So instead, I find myself stuck in this void, this meaningless existence, unable to find reason, yet knowing that I will not let go. That, like a cockroach, I will survive. To continue to be misunderstood, and never seen for what I am. Always alone, alienated, never really part of this...life.

How I wish I could be ignorant. Unable to comprehend, unable to see, like so many around me. But as they say, “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride...".