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I am
My Unkymood Punkymood (Unkymoods)
Without You
Sunday. 2.7.10 1:49 am
It's been almost a year.

A year full of emptiness.
A year in which I've managed to fool everyone but myself that I'm okay. A year in which many have grown to believe I can handle things by myself. A year where people have grown to give me enough space, enough space for me to fall apart by my self..

I'm in utter desperation. But I have no clue in which direction to turn or who's counsel to take. Everyone's quick to give it these days. Advice falls like rain in Seattle. And just as consistently, does not listen.

Truth is:
I'm no where near financially stable.
I have no real familial support, but judgement instead.
I don't have a clue on what to do with my life but can no longer afford to.
I thought I knew what chains of responsibility where. ...I had no clue.
Hardly anything comforts me anymore.

I've reached the end of my rope.
I have run as far as I can and have found a dead end.

Is there any real hope?

I just wish I had someone's arms to lay in. Someone to tell me it'll be allright and even if it's not, those arms would still be there no matter what, offering comfort and hope.

God, I miss her.
Mama, te extraño tanto...

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Tuesday. 2.2.10 4:38 pm
"Chalava! Chalava! Chalava zho!
Chalava! Chalava! Chalava zho!
Chalava! Chalava! Chalava zho!..."

There is no hope.

The chantings of blood thirsty men ring in my ear. Their snakeblades thirsty for my life blood. Their horses' angry stomps yearning with desire.

This is not some pleasant adventure in which allies come to aid, where the people hold on to triumph in their hearts. This is not a battle for survival. This is a merciless slaughter of men, women, and children. If the good men and women fight, it is nothing more than a dying dog biting at ankles.

All this is echoed in my heart.
I have finished my book. I feel no real resolution. But I fear it's because I have now come to face my own battles. No more hiding behind written pages of a false land with their nonexistent heroes. It's time to face the brutal reality. Bare boned and rotten flesh.

How can one man stand against so much?


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