Fruz

Expletives won't provide the catharsis I need - no loud music and horrible threats. None of it will do. I don't know what to do. I am stuck in a sad loop, a silly song playing over and over. And I don't know what to do. What can you do, when all the power you hold, resides in a tiny bubble named: you. Destruction runs in my arteries, pain through my veins. The destruction emanates through my skin, a pure heat and pure nothing; ineffectual; a stink and a sweat, a haze and a nuisance. My frustrations frustrate me. I don't know what to do. I just want to be left alone; but I'm not good enough for that; I've not earned it; I am tied to others I hold in affection, but need distance from; and distance keeps me from what I truly want; what must I do to get there? I don't know. Failure hammers me each day; in the form of 'no's, or just pure inability. For some its a game; I have tried to play it. I took a ball to a court, and threw it at a hoop three thousand times, and missed every time. What fun. My body aches still from the game. My mind wandered and got lost some place distant from my chest and head, but with each new failure, it returns to check in. It is not satisfied with the progress we've made unattended. Maybe it's not our fault, maybe good will come. But for now: frustration. I don't know what to do.