roads

 It's weird how I find myself writing again. Not sure why, it's not like I can think of anything to write. Even now, I struggle to put my thoughts into words. As if my mind is so confused there is but a fog left in the place where my creativity welled from for months. Now a blur. Every few days, everything just blurs. What the fuck am I even doing? Why did I even start doing this shit? What am I getting out of it? Whatever I started with, I legitimately have less than before. Financially, Physically, Emotionally, Metaphysically, terrible decision making on my part. Everything is running low. Patience, Virtues, Willpower, Ethics.... What was the purpose? I still don't know. Did I wish for a fairy tale story that I knew wouldn't come to fruition? High on the imaginary fiction that I drew? The cheapest fantasy I've ever experienced. The most pure I've been probably since before puberty. Nothing from a physical attraction, but just the mere idea of an emotional conn...