Anhedonia

Always outward looking.

The trickle of “likes” such fleeting fixes.

Compulsions of checking.

Waiting for the pellet.

Comfort zone cages, so ornately arranged.

Knowing what’s best yet never doing.

Far too risky.

Managed doses of emotion.

No room for ambiguity.

Everything must be validated perpetually, by everyone.

Hello, it’s me.

Rambling at you and feeling bitter.

I am writing this so you will see it.

So you can acknowledge my existence.

Look at me and give me something.

A ping from your submarine.

Maybe I’ll ping back if it’s convenient.

I’ve perfected this island down to the finest detail.

If only I could capture a beautiful creature to rain affection down on me in every waking moment, like an endless spring of adoration.

Giving me all the reason I need to continue existing and never worry about this “self” I’ve read about..

I want what’s tangible.

I want to grab hold and never let go.

Sap ever resource.

Consume every substance

I don’t worry about who might suffer.

None of that is real to me.

I only see myself when I look in the mirror.

It’s me. Everything is me.

And maybe there is more, some sort of “higher” what not.

These dead cells still vibrate with some truth I choose to ignore.

They persist despite my rage and self destruction.

Why is this?

The terror of the present moment stalks me.

It’s taunting me to wake up and do something.

To connect.

To breathe.

To feel.

To be alive.

Day by day I might succumb, letting more and more pain leak through my barrier until it becomes all encompassing.

Only then can I transform but I’m so afraid.

Death is an arms length away  to my left  yet I refuse to acknowledge him.

My dearest friend. My brother.

Let us dance together.

Show me the light.