A peak into my mind.
You can pretty much see just how scattered my thinking is.
Cheers to incoherency.
—It’s been exactly a year
The sutures are there
They sometimes unravel making the wound feel fresh but deep down
of the fact that the very progress I continue to speak of hinges on the continued battle between my psyche and the circumstances
But my stance is weak at times
A Jimi Hendrix song plays in my mind
New ink on my tri’s
But when I try to “fly on, Little Wing”
I get grounded,
and I feel what seems like an insurmountable insecurity enclosing within myself (surrounded)—
I try to convince myself that the future will be good
I have to believe in something, right
A sliver of goodness, a stroke of good luck, any good is good when all good said good riddance
I have to believe in something right
They say time heals all wounds but what if there’s substantial dissemination from the heart to the mind because through first-hand experience, the mind can go through some pretty scary and dark stuff
All I can do is hope that I won’t feel this way all up until next year, otherwise I’d have self-diagnosed dysthymia [2 years]
I’m the doctor
I’m the patient
The heart supplies blood to itself
There is beauty in that
To think that a part of me is already helping itself
Helps when I believe I’ve already lost all self-empowerment
I’ll survive another year
I have to.