Hole In The Soil

why do i feel the way i do. ive done something wrong…again. why cant i be ‘normal’. satisfy people the best i can. why do i have to be the person i am. feeling like im on top of the world with just one more swimming pool. and the next moment feeling like a hopeless hole in the soil that is slowly filled day after day. i try to be who you want me to be. i only fail. feeling the dirt close in on me. crushing what i could have had. ah. fuck the satisfaction of others. this is my life. i am who i am. take me for me. let me flee this enclosing puncture that lays within the earth. or leave me drowning in your silence. i dont understand. this life. you. and me. let me be.


But the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself. The mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the self-denial that mars our lives. We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us. The body sins once, and has done with its sin, for action is a mode of purification. Nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure, or the luxury of a regret. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain. It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins of the world take place also. - Oscar Wilde