Too Much

Too much...

There is simply too much.

A cloud of despondency plagues my state of consciousness, raging and battling as I sit and lick the wounds.

The spinning- the melting of the walls and the floating of the floors.

Everything becomes as lava and my views of reality become a distorted perversion of what once was. What was it once? What is it now?

How does one define anything? It appears that the definitions of my existence remain subjective and fluid, never rooted or grounded in a discernable resolution.

Bleeding fingers from lines and lines of incomprehensible nonsense...are these even words?

Stop the spinning!

Let me settle, where is the calm amongst the chaos?

The weight on my chest and the inability to breathe, is just simply too much.

The Cyclical Demise of Stability

How can I put into words the torture?

How can I verbalize the extremism that befuddles me so persistently?

As the pendulum swings so do the tides of my very being, my core, my innermost ability to be. To be.

It is as if I wake up in a completely new world from time to time. “Behold the old has passed away and the new has come.”

This new however is often times the old- and the old from time to time is often a variance of the new.

360. 180.

The radical shifts seem relentlessly unavoidable.

Homeostasis is change.

The settling begins and the feeling of finally taking root is ingrained only to be changed within a blink of an eye for no apparent reason, shaking the core stability that I thought was becoming me.

I can’t. Stop.

Breathe….just breathe…

In the face of one side I long for stability, for a sense of normalcy and a steadfast philosophy of living, yet in another face I challenge and combat the stability for the chance at “freedom,” and still in another face I am left with the perplexity of the cycling and shifting- confounded and confused.

The triad of my consistent inconsistency…

There is beauty in torture, there is constant growth.

Change. Cyclical demise of stability.