I’ve kind of given up on magic for a while now—a long while. See, I used to believe that magic was in every footstep, every breath. I got a rude awakening when I put my faith in someone that didn’t deserve it. And I left with nothing left. How do you replenish a well without any water source? I can’t make it rain. The ocean is two hundred miles from me. I wish it were as easy to find a way back as it is to get yourself lost. But hell, that would defeat the beauty of getting lost.
I started this blog with the intention of sharing my words with people I didn’t know. I’ve wasted my time and breath with people who simply told me to “get over it” or “sleep it off”. Anxiety doesn’t just work that way. I’ve given up everything to get myself stuck back at the beginning. And it doesn’t feel like this blog is helping much. I don’t know what I intended to accomplish.
I wish magic did exist, that I could snap my fingers and the world wouldn’t be polluted with all its poison. But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?