brooding.

I am my own enemy.

Alas, a fight I cannot win.

Overcome. Got to overcome. Keep with the movin' on. I have to take care of myself. But when I keep creating fresh wounds...guess I can't take care of myself. And I have to. And I have to take care of the cats. And I have to take care of him. And I have to take care of those fucking paintings in the next 10 days.

Responsibility has never been something I've been good at.

And it's just getting worse and worse every day. Can a fucken crippled and blind fool with some brutal heart-wounds care for another with the same dilemma? How the fuck am I supposed to do this? And I sound...I sound so fucking emo. So fucking sad and pathetic. Bleeding in the corner. Crying tears of .. oh, I don't know ... tears of death and despair. I thought I moved past this shit. I thought a lot of things.

I'm becoming what I hated.

And I don't know how to stop. I don't know where I am. I'm just gone.

Ally