She

It's one of those days. Possibly one of those weeks, when it seems like everything I know to be true is, in fact, in question. When maybe, just maybe, I've started to grow up, in that way that only time and experience can force.

I'm seeing things clearly, more clearly than in a long time; but less clear all at the same time. What is the right way to do it? To figure out what to be passionate about, to live for, to give everything to in order to succeed. How do you know when its the right time to give up everything else in order to pursue it?

There's a beast, a monster that invades us at the time when we're most vulnerable. That monster has invaded me. I can feel it writing inside my veins, stretching them to their capacity, working my heart to the point of failure. It travels through my spinal cord and in to my brain, through my nerves, and out every action of my body. It pays my bills and pushes me past what I was, where I was and who made me this way.

But, I'm only human. The beast can only feast on my blood for so long. Sooner or later, my heart will die. He will quickly devour my organs, my bones, my skin and leave me to die, moving on to the next victim.

Thankfully, I'm not there yet. But with every day I can feel it getting closer. I'm weaker. I'm a shell.

Nights like tonight, when I've been alone for days and days, I've reconciled these thoughts. It's just me and myself, hiding under a thick sheet with a flashlight, from the Beast. We try to see the world through the eyes of ourself before the weight of this world pinned us down.

It's not a misunderstanding of who I am. It's a cloud; a fog that keeps me from seeing myself.
It's the darkness that lives in my mind, the fear, the uncertainty.

This existence is a lonely one.