when you think,
‘One more rejection,
another useless no,
an extra doses of indifference,
and I’m ready to give up on
the whole fucking world;
but something makes us stay,
and I wish I knew what it was
so I could use it all the time.
I struggle with developing a proper human connection with people. I have so many friends, but I often feel so very alone. It’s a confusing, conflicting feeling. It’s almost disheartening in how ungrateful I almost feel. It makes me guilty. I see smiling, inviting faces everywhere I turn, but call me jaded, whisper about how conceited I am because I see no ears I can trust or smiles with sincerity to actually rely on. I have trust issues and I am constantly fighting my demons. The voices are so much louder without the drugs. They come and go, they go for much longer now, but when they come back; sirens and war drums. In their absence, the quiet causes a ringing emptiness; the silence is deafening.
It’s too late to return to innocence, I’ve come way too far. This road to hell, paved with good intention, has started to lose traction and I don’t know what that means anymore.
Robin Williams street art tribute off Melrose in LA on 17 August 2014