“I can’t stop shaking, and I can’t change. I’m setting myself up with every chance at success, knowing full well I’m going to fuck it up.”

I’m not doing anything that should warrant such an extremely negative reaction from myself. I’m eating a sandwich while I finish up some work, but that last bite…it’s hard to explain, but that bite made me feel so hollow, that it was all I could do to keep myself from crying. I took that bite, and immediately dropped the sandwich and just started shaking. I couldn’t chew, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t do a damn thing. I felt so small, yet so bloated. I wanted to disappear, but wanted someone to notice me, to tell me I’d be okay. I wanted somebody to remind me that eating a sandwich is a normal thing, and it shouldn’t cause a mental breakdown. But everything causes a mental breakdown now…I haven’t gone a single day without breaking…and I’m tired…

My body is tired. My back is screaming at me to get up and do something, even if that something is jumping off a bridge. My hands and face and mouth are all dried up, unsightly, scaly things. I’m sure my reflection is haunting, or at least a consistent visitor to every sort of nightmare the human mind can concoct, but I wouldn’t know for sure, because I avoid mirrors and glass windows and still bodies of water, knowing that if I saw whatever it is I have become, I’d do anything I could to destroy that monster…I’m so tired of being the monster…for once, I wish I could just be the hero.

I’d valiantly strike any mirror with my fist and enjoy watching a kaleidoscope of my own blood run across the now serrated surface.

I’d bravely shatter any glass windows, gathering the broken pieces into a nice, sharp pile, and roll around in that bed of crystal needles in a stupid, childish attempt to cut my way through this terribly uncomfortable skin.

And I’d heroically smother any image presented by a calm waters surface, forcing it under in a wave of self-righteous rage, inflated fear, and layer upon layer of bravado to mask my doubts…I’d drowned anything shown in that waters reflection, even if it means spending the rest of my forever at the bottom of an empty Sea.

I’m not doing anything that should warrant how much I hate myself, but I’ve come to view my very existence as a crime, a blight on society. I am a monster, and the only acceptable kind of monster is a dead monster. I don’t want to be a monster, and I wish I could know what it’s like to be the hero, so really I’m just killing two birds with one stone, but in this case, those birds are just me and my reflection. I just have to take that stone, grind out a nice, sharp edge, slide that makeshift dagger across my throat, and watch as that monster in the mirror gets exactly what it deserves…and I can go out with a smile in my heart, knowing I finally did something good for the world; I finally became a hero…

August has arrived, and with it a more relaxed mood for my self reflections.

I was so caught up in the rush, I didn’t bother to think about it at all. I wanted to ride this wave, to live in the fast lane, to never lose the wind blowing through my hair. I wanted it all so badly…that I never noticed. Well, more like I refused to acknowledge the facts. The wind, this ride, our moment in time…I thought of it as flying, but from the word go, this was nothing more than falling. So, given enough time, I’m going to hit the ground. I know that, but maybe I don’t care. Maybe I just want to enjoy this ride for all it’s worth, and I’ll be satisfied with only this. Maybe I’m riding this fall with so much enthusiasm because I want to hit the Earth that much harder. Maybe I want that fall to be so brutal that, not only will it cripple, but perhaps it will kill…Yeah, I think that’s it. I’m not being ignorant of the consequences, but in fact I’m counting on them. I know you aren’t good for me, but I don’t care. I’ll take you, all of you, and let you take not only everything I have, but everything I could ever have. It’s all yours, and for the low, low price of a few moments of your time, and some memories to cling to in my final moments.

It’s the beginning of August, so the sun it setting earlier and earlier. It’s something anybody can observe, but for me it feels more personal. I can feel the days becoming shorter, but for the first time in my life I’m okay with this. I used to want summer to last forever, and every year I looked forward to the next, and for a fresh summer. But I’m okay with this. Everything has to end at some point. I’m okay with ending. I’ll enjoy this last summer, these last bit of fireworks. I’ll ride until everything is closed. I’ll enjoy this fall until I crash. And I’ll make sure that crash is hard enough to ensure I’ll never have to crash again. I don’t care if you hurt me anymore, because pain only matters if you are alive to feel it. I’ll be okay, I’ll escape the pain. So I’ll enjoy the ride, for all it’s worth, until my fall finally ends.