The Language of Fear

There are so many endless possibilities, so much so that it feels pointless to pursue any path in life at all.

I garner a plethora of talents and yet I blame others for these talents not being recognized outside of my own spectrum of reality.

And I blame others, as well, for my inadequacies and for refusing to escape from my comfort zone by any means necessary.

What is there to do when you’re so used to following the same old script day-in-and-day-out all your life?

The same habits,

the same addictions,

the same mannerisms,

the same routine,

over and over again…

I am to blame for this misfortune but I’m not going to leave out my childhood either.

It seems to me like we all live this cruel existence consisting of emotional suffering in a constant recollection of one’s past.

It’s like we’re in a play where we just live in chronic turmoil while God observes from the sidelines.

Mankind seems to be a mere source of amusement for this higher being that we all perceive differently.

Within the darkness of doubt, I can hear Him whisper softly in the language of fear:

“Fallen victim to your crime

You used to pray for space

Drown in Me one more time

And mend your wicked ways”

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