Broken

“God allows us to experience the low points of life in order to teach us lessons we could not learn in any other way. The way we learn those lessons is not to deny the feelings but to find the meanings underlying them.” ~ Stanley Lindquist

I used to be naive. Too naive for my own good.

The world, through my eyes, is too cruel. My rose-tinted glasses had shattered in its wake, and the shards pierce deep and painfully into my soles. Each step becomes more painful than the one before.

The knowledge doesn't make the journey any less painful. Despite the preparation, there will always be something - a weak point that will be the downfall of everything else. Like cotton candy torn to bits by a machine-gun gone amok. Or a small hole that will eventually be ripped open, wider and wider, that soon an entire forest of elephants could go through the opening.

I don't like being the target. A punching bag for hits of all sorts. When you have no artillery at your disposal for your defense - or, heck, even a brick wall - then all you can do is stand still, as still as whatever left of your dignity allows you, and take it all in your stride.

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. But this...this is poisoning slowly, that by the time the damage is beyond repair, I'd probably be in a vegetative state, or, simply put, have long snapped.


God Forbid though.

...That is all. For now.

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