It's uttered innocently, masked as a curiosity question, nothing loaded, nothing more than technicalities. But I know better...I know what's behind it. I know the disappointment that's laced through every word, I know what's being thought. You're wasting your life...why can't you buckle down and do something purposeful, why can't you do something good once in a while.
It stings. But it's an echo of my own voice, my own accusations.
Why can't I buckle down...why can't I do something useful...why am I wasting so much time, hours upon hours, days upon days, weeks upon weeks, months upon months...when are you going to get your act together?
I want it more than anyone...other people think it's a disappointment to them? I'm living it. I want a full life. I want to make the most of my days. I want to take advantage of my opportunities. I don't want to waste time, I don't want to waste ten minutes, never mind ten months. I don't want this at all.
I know what it looks like. I know how it seems. I have the time. I have the strength. I have the freedom. I have all the resources. Except for the fuel. And the fuel is something the world doesn't see, the world doesn't know...
The fuel that is composed of peace of mind...the fuel that cannot have sadness drowning out the proper functioning of neural pathways...the fuel that is lacking when I can't fall asleep at night and then can't wake up in the morning...the fuel that needs happiness and fulfillment to beget more happiness and fulfillment...the fuel that doesn't work without logic and logic is suffocated by heartbreak....
And the time keeps on bleeding...and the recriminations pile up...and the remorse and self-flagellation deepen...and when your heart is hurting, you hardly even care...
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