Truly feel like filling bike and riding til run out of petrol then just walk til run out of land. Sadly body doesnt do walking and live in the UK so would hit the sea before ran out of fuel.
Hate these days. The physical pain of illness and exhaustion I can cope with. The feeling useless and pathetic I can’t.
I am 52 not 92. I had my career I loved, self worth and yes even money, I could afford to dream. Then overnight I became this joke. A shell that people ridicule, attack, dehumanise. I am a prisoner to the lump of meat I have become.
I want to do something, but never know how I will be each day, I want to write but no concentration span, I want to plan, to dream, to live but no money, no prospects no self worth.
I went to bed with a plan in my head, today I realise it was a pipe dream. That I am no longer that person.
I am not angry nor even really upset. Just empty. Just as colourless as the drab sky outside my prison window.
I have enough to sustain life. But like so many others no longer enough to really live.
I wish I could just cheer up, hold my chin up, pull myself together, but sadly not how this crap works.
I pretend all will change but all too quickly realisation hits with the truth that it wont, well not for the better.
Not life just limbo.
The little ten year old me so full of hope has truly withered into nonexistence.
Dont fret not suicidal today, just accepting of a fate I never planned for.
Jonesy Dog of Socialism & the Trikerpoet 