Discomfort. A dead end?
The infinitely abundant atrocities of my bedridden life, that it is now. Keeps screaming, obscure emotions to be exact, as to why I should always be present. Being available. Not being available for myself but for people to be exact. Availability as premature as it sounds, is something that is so, I would like to use the word "devastating" because that it is actually how I feel. Because of this horrific 6 inch cuboid? That is always by my side. Decides when I am available, being so easy for anyone to reach at any time of the day, being left high and drained. So let's get into this. Being available. Sounds bizarrely kind? Not kind. Warm. As warm as it sounds, it's not. Not by a long shot. People don't truly value peace, when they have never known what war really is. Same goes when you're so available for people to reach you, to be there, to be the saint, the savior. There's nothing wrong with that, not at all. Being there for people is a very n...