I have something to admit. I hate who I've turned into, regardless of how interesting it seems. I've been treading water for longer than I can remember, and I'm stuck worrying that the worst is yet to come.
I'm filled with unquenchable anger, and trusting anyone anymore is beyond my ability to think of. I'm beginning to think that I'm broken, beyond repair. The positive that I'm constantly reminded to think of, has long since left me behind. So, my premonition of the future has sadly come to pass. The desert that surrounds me is metaphorical, and the rain that I saw was nothing more than the state of my life.
Why I share these things eludes me still, for I doubt it is understood, nor does anyone truly care.
Oh well.
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