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trapped
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birdmad
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like a rat in a cage
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010325
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... |
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soia
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despite all my rage
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010505
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... |
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apple
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I am drowning.
I am trapped.
I'm losing my mind.
I have no choices.
I have no voice.
I am dying alone.
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010725
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... |
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pilgrim
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It was a set up , I'm sure of it now.
My supervisor went home early and left his computer running as usual. I was making the rounds, checking doors ect. when I saw a chance to use the internet service and check up on blather. when I was done I couldn't get the screen to look like it did when I started. The pages loaded off center. And I couldn't get the blather entries to delete from the history folder, must've been password protected. I'm sure I'll hear about this.
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010726
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pilgrim
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Later the same day:
Nothing yet, could he have truly just not have noticed things looked different? God! I hate waiting for the other shoe to drop!
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010726
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argo
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Aren't we all really really trapped?
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030509
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birdmad morrison
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no one here gets out alive
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030509
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ShilohLives
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...all the thoughts and feelings..
...all the pain and tears...
...All the anger and hatred...
...All the want and passion...
...all the love and warmpth...
...all the stress and anxiety...
...I'm...in a world I've made for myself...In a place where only I can free myself from...Can't anyone hear my cries?...I am...
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030614
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oldtree
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try listening to someone elses for a change
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030615
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ShilohLives
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I do...Thanks for the advice...
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030615
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miasma
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" o vile weed, that smells't so sweet
that the sense aches at thee! "
(othello)
why must i know
the searing pain
of these words?
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031205
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... |
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no reason
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i'm making it harder and harder to get out
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140601
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kerry
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today i asked a man with sad eyes behind rose colored glasses (is it a joke? i always wonder) if he feels like his life has meaning, and he tipped his head back and started laughing. maybe because for the past half hour we'd been talking about how trapped he feels, how when the darkness descends upon him he crawls away to hide like a dying cat.
"no, i don't think life has meaning," he said, which was not really answering my question, and then he said "i'm going to throw the question back at you."
my answer is not interesting or important to include here but i thought of a night when i was finally lying in bed next to someone i'd wanted to lie in bed next to for years, and i asked him that question, and he said without skipping a beat something like:
"yes. the meaning of life is to be close to the people you love."
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240125
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nr
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this is always my biggest fear. but why is it so scary?
i guess i know the answer. i guess i wish i was stronger.
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250920
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ovenbird
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The press of what needs to be done traps me. It seems ridiculous, but if I have an appointment or commitment coming up I struggle to do anything at all in the few hours before. It’s as if the upcoming thing hijacks all of my mental resources and I find myself engaged in an active process of “waiting.” All I can do is wait. I stare out the window. I try to write but can’t find any words. A book won’t hold my attention. There’s a creeping anxiety that comes with waiting, a fixation on how much time I have left before I have to leave. I hyperfocus on being ready to go and it completely destroys any ability I might have to focus on something else. I’ve always been like this. I can’t relax until I’ve checked everything off my to-do list. I am the opposite of a procrastinator. Which is, perhaps, why motherhood has proven so difficult. When you’re a mother you’re NEVER done. There is always something that needs attending to. There are always so many things on the to-do list that they will never be finished. There is always laundry. The house is never clean enough. There’s always something I could be doing to support my kids or be a better mom. The job doesn’t have discrete tasks and I never feel that I’ve satisfactorily completed anything. So part of me is always stuck, always preoccupied, struggling to focus because there are so many places I SHOULD be putting my attention. I try to reclaim pockets of time. I mark them off. I give them labels: This time is set aside for doing something I love. It helps a little. But there are still moments when I find myself frozen, watching the trees bend in a wind storm, listening to the rain on the side of the house, feeling that there are so many things looming I can barely move. I don’t know how many hours have been stolen from me in this manner but I wish I could gather them all up and spend them extravagantly, rolling in the wealth of a thousand shining days that ask for nothing and offer endless space to dream.
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251025
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what's it to you?
who
go
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blather
from
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