back to stardust

This is my scream in to the void. I wish I could dematerialize back in to stardust. Just a poof and glitter and I can be gone. Away from the material needs, away from the physical needs, away from the creative drive that is slowly killing me. I’m drowning. I can’t breathe. Someone make this seem all worthwhile.

So much pain, I can’t leave, I can’t be home, I can’t be here. I can’t do anything. I’m paralyzed with fear. Paralyzed with loneliness. Surrounded by love and so, so alone. So empty. So much pain.

I need a sanitarium. I need some time to think. I need a safe place and a straitjacket.  I need strength. I need unwarranted confidence in myself. I need a break. I need help. I need I need I need. My needs are so much less than everyone else’s why do I complain? I’ve never been raped or assaulted; I’ve never been homeless or unfed; I’ve never known real Need. I’m good friends with pain. Physical, emotional, mental. Why can’t I put in to words this pain, this emptiness?

It’s all in my head. Mind over matter. Buck up little buckaroo. Just keep swimming. Don’t just dream it, be it. You can shine no matter what you’re made of.

How do you ask for a friend when everyone else needs one too? How can I put my pain above others’? What makes me think I’m any better or worse off than anyone else? Who the fuck do I think I am? Honestly, No One. I am No One. I am Nothing.

What am I even trying to do? If I’m on this Earth, someone said, then I have a purpose. What is mine? To suffer as all beings do? To never be fulfilled by a desk job that suppresses my true Self? I’m a non-entity in all aspects of my life. Inconsequential. Just another piece that can be replaced with a newer, shinier model once it’s broken.  Another faceless face. Another nothing in the sea of nothing. It’s all useless. All I’m going to accomplish with my life is death. I’ll be reincarnated into something worse because I didn’t learn my lesson the first time. Maybe my lesson is to not try. Just give up. Just. Give. Up. There is nothing for me. There is no hope, no reasons. But the world won’t stop for my broken soul. Who am I? What am I? Why am I? If I don’t know by now, the answers must be Nobody, Nothing, and the answer to why is...welp, it’s easier to keep breathing than to stop.

My absence wouldn’t cause that much of a difference. For most, it would be no difference at all. What do I do? How do I stop this pain and forget the fact that it will come again and again and again.