Slave of the routine . .

A hoax this has been. Cheating on myself a long time ago.

I've been a slave of the routine, and it feels like a fingernail running down a chalkboard.

I was blind, or maybe I didn't want to see, because fear is a demon that turns your mind blind and your heart like an iceberg; bertaying yourself, acting against you...

I've been carriyng a bag full of anger and cans labeld as: "C O N F U S I O N".

I'm trapped in a maze like a mouse used for a psychological experiment.

It has been so heavy, than now my shoulders feel as if i had been lugging a high school back pack. I'm tired, exhausted, fearful, sad, desperate, anxious, upset. . . sometimes I just want to cry, and S C R E A M with all my strength, telling how much I love you and how much you are my reason for living, that I'm so angry to be in this stage, separated...but knowing that it is for the best. . .

Re-birth has come again, and this particular game I do not know how to play . . . where are the instructions? The rules? How am I supposed to know how to play the cards without you here. . . . . You have been my companion and the most faithful witness of every movement I made.

I'm scared, for sure I am. The path I was following suddenly became so blurry I am almost falling with every step I take. I miss you and I n e e d you, but at the same time, this is for the best, in the name of our dreams and plans we had gathered together like leaves on autumn.

So insecure I feel, I'm naked, vulnerable, cold and alone...and yet, you are always here in my mind...telling me to be strong...'cause this is for the best, RIGHT? . . . . . . Yes, I guess it is.

F r AG. . .