I wonder sometimes, how do I slap on a smile and squirm through the entire day like there isn’t a care in the whole wide world that bothers me?
When I sit down to speak with you, I can’t help be anything but honest.
Nothing else really matters, does it?
Not the mindless gossip that gets us through dreary days, not the endless complaints about the forever accumulating list of things to complain about, not the deadlines that come and go like deadlines must from time to time, not one of the emotions that seem to paint themselves over my days, none of it.
None of it matters somehow, because the moment you sit down alone with yourself you know what the voices in your head want to know, what they seem to shout out and ask you no matter how hard you try to silence them through the day.
There is no escaping the voices in your head, so the best thing you can do really is to hear them out.
Hear them shriek, listen to them wail, sit with them and allow them to corrode your seemingly happy spirit.
Your spirit isn’t happy, who are you even kidding? It’s TORTURED. It’s tormented. It’s flapping like a wingless bird that flew too fast and too high, too soon.
Mend it. I don’t know what it’s gonna take, maybe a little of this and a lot of that.
Whatever it is, we will mend it.