Beauty and Chaos

I think I fetishize my suffering and misfortune. To the point where when I really sit back and think about my life and where I am – it’s pretty good. It is good. Life could truly be so much worse in many ways. I get angry saying I’m just settling and convincing myself that this is the bare minimum of life but maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s entitlement and expectation which would explain my chronic disappointment. I’m trying to lean into what life is offering and just trying to enjoy it whether it’s what I want or not but I also feel myself descending into a darkness within me. Almost like a sick, twisted monster. A form of masochism really. When you let the cruel darkness within slowly engulf you like a dark fog. Your eye lids relax half way with a shallow grin that says we’re here… It’s never felt so inviting like it does now. Part of me is concerned but maybe this is what I was meant to do all along. I’m tired of being used with a smile on my face. It’s time for everyone to truly see how I feel when they take advantage of me.