Purgatory

Disillusionment has hit me hard; Ive recently started doubting every minute thing in the people whom i would have previously put my life on the line for. The feeling is distasteful; I feel like a perpetually have a lump in my throat when it comes to being open about my affection and my concerns. How do you say things that people pretend to accept, but secretly reject? How can you befriend people who profess the world, but don't know your day to day worries? Worse; how could I have mistaken all that for a genuine friendship?

I'm not even referring directly to my friendship with people in the workplace; this is a statement that has held uncannily true in all areas of my life; save for two. And with every mounting failure my insecurities have soared higher and higher-- is there something wrong with me? Why do people act that way? Why am I constantly misinterpreted? I seem to lack the accurate self-knowledge to identify the problem, and like a woman 'without wood' I bend easily to the whispers of the world; friend or foe.

But with every broken promise is a stronger self. The strength to have courage; even in the face of fire. Courage to look back, courage to look forward, courage to move forward. Without wood, like the weeds, I'll reach forward, I'll crawl forward, till the day I die. Even if death is nothing but a nihilistic regression, I don't have any better idea at this point of time than to move forward. 

forward, and onward.