The torment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause, is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force, and 'mangled mind' leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.
Elizabeth Drew
I sit at home day after day...waiting for the phone to ring or the mail box to beep....with some good cheer. That someone has found something that will keep me occupied for the upcoming months....while they throw in a little something to keep the debtors away....
Alas I wait in patience...Wonder at every little loud whisper that crosses my window...whether it aint someone wanting to have a conversation....to share my misery....to tell me the light at the end of the tunnel is so bright it will burn to ashes these moments in the dark....
For the first time the prospect of what many a woman goes through or willingly accepts stares me in the face....I shudder thinking how one can voluntarily surrender to a life which has no meaning, no consequence, no use, no art, no beauty, no music, no laughter....when everything in your life is borrowed?
The two rooms and their little furnishings don't keep me occupied enough ....even if were to re-arrange the house and its things ten different times, showered five times, ate another five, and watched mindless soaps for 4 hours, I still would be left wanting. So how can I plaster a smile when someone walks in tired after the trials and tribulations at work, wanting to crib....how can I lend him my ear when I am sobbing inside as my little upper floor leaks out through those thin black strands each day as I stand under the shower pretending that the water flowing down my cheeks is but the one from the tap......
I live a lie...A forced lie....
I no longer feel like I am me....I am an apparition of my self....somewhere lost in transit between the two abodes....my home and this temporary settlement....
Why is everything eluding me alone? Am I suddenly so untouchable? Should I have then left the comforts of my home, my friends and everything I consider dear to come to this alien town that treats me like I am a leper?
Something inside sobs. I dare not let the walls hear....They stare at me in smug satisfaction. They are slowly succeeding in ruining one more thinking being. Save me from this torturous world of mirages. Throw me the life-line. My eyes are so used to the darkness I will not miss the little clink.
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