As my temptations are increasing much more rapidly, I am unable to distinguish, what it is exactly, that I am to do with myself.
I ponder my decisions. In the passing days I have attempted to do several things that would, certainly, place my life in jeopardy. Sadly enough, I have no idea why. The monster is my mind has grown more intrusive now. I imagine my thick white skull has somehow transformed into a massive metal cage, keeping all of my previous, more optimistic thoughts, captive.
I am no longer able to write, and this is placing an incredible amount of stress upon my soul. The words are trapped inside me, desperately trying to break free - and I have no idea as to how I should let them escape.
My thoughts spiral and revolve around those simple words that you have spoken. Whether you meant them with harm, which I am sure you did not, or you meant them with realistic truth - they have hurt me more than anything has in quite some time.
How is it that I am selfish? I wonder to myself so consistently. What have I done to you, or what behaviors have I distributed that provide you with this belief?
And why is that I will never make it as a writer? My drive is certainly more driven then any other persons may be. This is who I am now.
And you are slowly destroying that.