fault lines

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 21, 2017

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Submitted: June 21, 2017



Insecurities and fear continue to thrive in me, in the deepest corners of my heart; or rather, what passes for my heart.I seem to win over them someday, on others, I am a hopeless mess, projecting the regrettably blasé and insecure figments of my imagination onto people, stewing in concocted visions and random scenes my mind seems to conjure with such ease.

“Repeat a lie a thousand times and it begins to resemble the truth”. This verisimilitude to an age old saying, a nexus of an overactive imagination and deep seated insecurities, perhaps come from my own actions of a past. A long gone past, whose wounds, though inflicted ages ago seem only to be just healing.Just when the wound scabs over, a new slash inflicts a deeper cut, more difficult to heal.A remarkable allegory for my present situation.

These are my own demons and I cannot seem to be able to conjure a patronus strong enough to keep them at bay.

A happy memory you say?

Happiness continues its sleight of hand with me, here an illusion, there a flicker of hope before being snuffed by overwhelming obscurity. These cheap legerdemains hurt me the most. A drowning man holds onto a straw, in the hope that it shall save him. His concept of time is linear, he guesses the future, but cannot see it. He will probably drown, but his inability to know for certain will keep him clinging to that last straw with all the strength he can muster

Time for me, is circular. I see the future, my future , in small hints, everyday objects or events.I see myself hurtling towards that abyss at breakneck speed every time. The beginning and the end converge to the same unyielding inescapable darkness, a loop that I know i cannot break. Trouble is, I still cling onto the straw.

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