Red Myrrh

Promises, Promises, Promises. How many times can I pledge the dive, only to cower away from the plank? How many months can pass while my dreams remain the same, but my age continues on? Where in my journeys do my detours account for stumbles further down rabbit holes of absolute certainty? This isn't my life....this isn't my dream. Where did I go wrong? Dare I deflect accountability and accuse my surroundings for deterring me? No, I dare not...why would I dare? No threats, no taunts, no fear tactics to compel me...no, my fate is of the doing of thine own will. Thine own cowardice...thine own seconds of contemplation. Oh, how I hate wallowing...it is beneath me. And yet it is all I do....all I can muster when divulging of life experiences to the unfamiliars. The unfamiliars are who understand if only for those few moments of unfamiliarity. But the mask eventually falls....and the wallowing surfaces...they disappear soon after. Everyone disappears soon after...they fade...they are erased...or they simply vanish into the void of life. Heavy do my eyes grow..but for what sleep do they long? For the hourly snooze of energy and nourishment....or is it a darker slumber that awaits? The inevitable sleep....the eternal sleep...the sleep of social indifference? Perhaps that sleep comes sooner than later....but of the later, my cards are dealt with faith. Promises, Promises, Promises....melancholy orgasms of hope and optimism...and then they fade....and then they fade.