Precursor to the Lost Opportunity

A Predilection for mourning.

What could have and would have happened if I had not wasted or ... missed, I suppose I did the chance to ... do something. I open my eyes and see that all the time spent before was as if in a dream, events outside of my awareness pass me by. And yet, as in another dream, I awake again only to discover the layer of reality that I knew before was nothing more than another fabrication.

So something comes up - something that you can't avoid. But you want to. But your avoiding it isn't going to change the fact that it's here and that something ... is due. I live my life in a state of ... ignorance, choosing to set that fact aside in my mind. Not to deal with this fear that overrides pretty much most fears in my life. Loss beyond loss that I'm willing to concede. And I don't have the strength or character to face it. I'd like to say that if I had my pillar - my dream ... desire? It's not the right word, but I won't call it a thing. If I had this pillar to ... not to lean on. But to have by my side in case I did need that. Cause I can't do this. And I can't face up to it. But I have to - sooner that I'd like.

Death bothers me. My own is one - it's a concept that you ... that I wonder about every now and again. And when it comes to the realization that it's there. There is no choice. No subversion or diversion from this fatalistic moment, all I have is this sick feeling in my gut and as I stand up to this wall of my fear, I just turn and run. But in this zone of facing up to death, there are other walls that I can't stand up to. So it's a lot of running. A lot of hiding and in this hole where I am curled up right now, I feel sick and dirty. Tired. Angry and ... I want to leave and I keep getting sidetracked. I'm still in this hole. So I say I'll get out. And do something. But what if that fails and falls through? Fly across the bloody planet? For what? A hope? A vague impossibility? Is it all worth it just for that ... slimmest of chances - slimmer than survival in the black vaccum of space eventually to be pulled into the nothingness of a black hole.

It's not my death that I'm scared about, though I probably should be. It's living past the deaths of others. Or reaching my own ... time and knowing that I missed yet another opportunity to live beyond my wildest dreams. But it probably wasn't an opportunity - it was all in my head. I just never took the chance to look. Hiding in this little hole. The vomit drying around my ankles and tears caked on mud-covered cheeks.

Till the rain washes me clean and gives me the clarity to see past this moment's illusion.