Frustration is building inside me. It threatens to grow out of my bodily frame, and in the process of bursting out of its confines, promises to annihilate that which has harboured it. For weeks, this brooding evil, this unforgiving hatred quietly gathered strength from every injustice done to it, every unpleasant word, gesture, expression directed towards it, every error, however inconsequential, committed by it, until ultimately lashing out with a pitch-black brilliance, like a dark sun exploding.
It makes me want to scream.
With all the humanity inside, the hope, the optimism, the theoretical diligence--how is it possible that such horrid, insufferable pain has been brewing in me for so long, and for no good reason?
My words fail me. So does my reason. The two things which I proudly proclaim that I'm in possession of. My faculties are dulled, my dignity gradually stripped away. Even in the presence of praise and recognition, all that envelops me is reproach, dissatisfaction, fear.... They encircle me, grip me, and suffocate me, so that my heart flutters and chokes in the cold, dead hours of the night, jolts me out of my dreams, and collapses in on itself noiselessly with excruciating force, while I lie suddenly awake, dazed by this curiously foreign feeling that leads tears to involuntarily well up in my sleep-ravaged eyes.
And yet...
"This, too, shall pass."
No comments:
Post a Comment