Why Does This Chocolate Taste So Bad?

Well, why?

Alone. A as in one, lone as in segregated from. One segregated from what? Perhaps the inability to imagine of a better future, or the cold bite of the present, whichever it is it is felt manically. There are days when the body and brain is in complete conjunction with all it’s surroundings and happiness is paralyzing. This is what it feels like to be together rather than alone.  And I feel as though I am a coin free falling through the air flipping continuously from ecstasy to depression, back and forth up and down side to side. It pains me to think that I will rise from my depressed state only to fall back into it again. The cycle is getting to me. Anger can be felt at times only to be subsided by self pity, and self pity soon to be swept under the rug by my conscience. I wish I could shake the rug out, because it is foul, dusty and putrid whenever it is disturbed. I like to think I have succeeded in some aspects in shaking it out, but, the uneasy pain of my depression always seems to find its way back under the rug and into my nostrils. AAACHOOO. I already have allergies I don’t need more gunk floating around irritating me.

Maybe I have an inferiority complex. I always find myself questioning my credentials and my attributes be them social, economical or just general knowledge. Mainly social though. I have never had sex. Ya it bothers me, any virgin who says it doesn’t is lying or sweeping it under their rug. You essentially have to lie about being ashamed, embarrassed, inadequate and questionable of your personality or physical appearance. As far as I can see, it is off-putting to feel sorry for yourself all of the time, and that is a huge issue of mine.  It is difficult to find the balance between criticality and confidence in one’s self, I tend to overdo one or the other, and can never find the balance and then I grow to be depressed; Unsatisfied with life in general, and emulate a world in which all that brings me joy seems to be transparent. I don’t know if I will ever overcome this cycle. Life might be like a box of chocolates but I’m getting tired of eating this f*****g chocolate.

Author's Note

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