Of Dying + Despair
I’m triggered. But I don’t want to be. I want that chapter to be sealed and burned until even the ashes are swept into the abyss. I want to pretend that I didn’t have hope, aspirations, a sense of importance, a glimmer of hope. When you’ve been tamped so far down into the dirt, you don’t expect to see the light. But I did, for just a second, only to be pushed further down and covered until the chance of a single ray of sunshine was a distant memory. I hate that I let such a trivial thing ruin me so deeply. Fame was never the goal. Somehow I thought I was finally going to be seen and heard for who I am. I thought my child would get the chance to see that a positive future is possible. I wanted them to be seen and heard by their community elders. Acceptance is the thing we’re all clamoring for, isn’t it? And for some reason, I thought something as silly as a make over show would bring that to the two of us. Damn, did that take a turn. I am one who always feels like I’ve made friends on