I do believe there is some conspiracy against me. Everyone in the world is in on it but me, in a very Truman Show-esque way. I am not allowed to be happy. I am only given brief tastes of happiness as a teaser, what I could have if I weren't me.

The world holds so much beauty, but I go through much of my life with such jaded, cataracted eyes and difficulty in seeing it. Lies, betrayals, absence, sorrow, pain... it all turns to this calloused cataract, building and building, coming closer to permanence.

I don't know how I keep on going with all the knives in my back and pins in my voodoo doll, but I do, somehow. Maybe it's strength. Maybe it's my going within myself at all times. Maybe it's that I never really let people all the way in. Maybe it's the numbed state I exist in most of the time.

I should stop allowing myself to be pulled out of that numbness.
The numbness has never let me down.
I've become quite the fan of feeling nothing at all.
I should be a more loyal fan. Nobody likes fairweather fans.