Filling in the void a little bit more

Last night, my very good friend and I talked about my anger towards my life. How I feel trapped by my pain, and prevented from a real life because I missed out on the first 25 years.

After going over a lot it dawned on me how much this negative thinking comes out when I am in deep pain. This realization deeply struck me. I went to bed feeling worthy, whole, possible, open.

I felt a sense of realness that made me proud of all I have accomplished. I am not the shell of a human I once was. I am not so afraid of expression I huddle in the corner. I am no longer pitiable for my disability.

One thing I should never ever forget: I AM REAL. I did that. I spent my entire life feeling as the observer. And it was all my actions that led me to reality.

Fuck if I can make my self real, I can do anything. Right?

As I teeter on the edge of success, I still find myself staring back into the hole with the same locked gaze I had before. But it seems every time I snap out of it again, I quickly take a dump in it, slowly filling it in with my disgust for how it has plagued my life. And I will keep crapping in it until its filled.

And when I am standing tall over the mound of shits I gave in trying to conquer myself, I am certain I will be out of shits to give and ready to take on the world.