Here comes the rebirthing from the uncomplicated twitch, of which, only forcing the itch from an effortlessly complicated, yet, perplexed lifestyle known as simply fucked; it is so much more debilitating than abiding to the norm and saying, "I accept the terms of agreement."
But, through the turmoil and anguish I feel, I sit back in my chair dwindling my beard as it tends to curl un-relentlessly to contemplate one preponderant thought... is it more harmful than to slay, pray, and debilitate to our own life creating us for what's better known as "slaves to the game," or to be ignorant to what we know we must change, bust, lust or die?
I'm not sure… but dammit I'm trying to figure it out just like the rest of ya'll. Now I'm left with only two options:
Shit sucks. Simply said, it can keep getting worse. But, how do you help the two faced bitch next door when you can't even figure out who is looking back at you in the mirror; only to be 3 seconds… 2… 1… a cut from the razor blade grazing your face, griping a scream, encouraging a thud from the next supersonic lightyear galactic hole only just next door, "Dammit!" I slammed my hand into the mirror with flow from the underworld; satan would be proud.
The mirror crumbled, and I finally open my eyes to a currently awaiting future that I wished were more than seven years of bad luck, we couldn't be so lucky… that this was what I felt I deserved!
I don't know who I see in this mirror anymore. Nevermore, nevermore screamed the raven. Nevermore. Who is this man I see, staring back at me. Never-more.
Author note: Sometimes we use metaphorical writing to help ease what isn't so easy to say up in plain view. For me, when dealing with mental illness, I always found the writing and style of Edgar Allan Poe to be soothing to my mind. The style was discombobulated, but for that time worked for me.
This style is the style I've written one of my best sellers, INSANITY, the sequel to ILLICIT: Life in the Eyes of an Addict. Of which, this story tells my journeys through mental illness battles in early recovery from substance use disorder. This style goes firmly with all of the ups, downs, and sideways emotions I couldn't explain in laymen terms, but came out beautifully written for the eyes and brain to process through an emotional rollercoaster once put in the frame of mind that I feel sets me on a different type of easel, drawing my picture from a different perspective.
Moral of the story being, when I feel depressed, anxious, panicked, or annoyed… who is that man looking back in the mirror at me?