thyestean23

I tire of keeping company with ghosts. Illusions from my past have haunted me. What seemed almost saint like become yet another uncomfortable mirror into an image that I have yet to escape. I roll over in disappointment. I have woken from another dream. Another vision of freedom only to appear back inside this prison. What was once firey frustration has boiled down to jaded acceptance. I tire of keeping company with ghosts. Everyone I know is a partial contruct of what I dont know. Even now I have begun to slap mortor to brick as I rebuild the walls I so willing dropped....for a ghost.

I must have been a horrible person in my past life. This one is a testament to pain and isolation. Here my awareness has been turned against me repeatedly for years on end. The simple pleasures of existance have eluded me. My efforts to exist with honor only assist in my islolation. The mistress of mercy hasnt called on me in over a decade. Over that time the landscape has gotten cold...to cold to ignore. Stubborn pride will see me through to the natrual end. i will maintian honor. Its hope that has become an uncomfortable wieght to bare. Ironicly, its my lack of hope that maintians my prision. I tire of keeping company with ghosts.