The end where I begin


What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger; a term so cliché it almost never restores ones confidence in moments of despair. But within redundancy often is a speck of truth. I’m beginning at the end. This is my anecdote.

I watched in bemusement, falling deeper into abstraction. Memories resurface like seaweed;- as if a purging tide exists within my core. Sometimes a raging tide, one incredibly unforgiving it won’t let me sleep at night without savouring on every last crumb of discontent. I had never felt the warmth of content and my fingers where beginning to freeze from melancholy unbecoming. I blamed you for all the ruin because I couldn’t admit to my emotional blind spot. So if you will, allow me to apologise, for hurting me then blaming you.

I zone out again, these days it seems to happen more often than usual. My minds’ been time travelling and…

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