Belonging / A Journal of Sorts / 5.30.21

May 30th, 2021

It’s past midnight. 

I have so much to confess, but with each utterance, it feels heavier. The burden lifted only clears way for weight.

What do I do with myself?

I find myself, again, confused. 

I feel like everything I want is slipping through my fingers, the next wrung is just out of my reach. I could reach it, if I tried, but to try, to attempt, may transfer me to a new ladder completely.

I refuse to believe that this ladder isn’t mine. 

I refuse to accept the weight of the conclusions that I jump to. 

Am I in a place to refuse?

With so much happening, with possibilities unfolding, perhaps I just wish that I had possibilities, prospects. 

But all of that requires the painful ordeal of being seen, watched, observed. Specimized and pedestal placed. It requires sacrifice. And I am, currently, quite afraid to sacrifice, afraid of the cost. 

I dislike my loyalty being called into question. I hate the idea of being replaced. I can’t be replaced, but the idea of forfeiting my spot, my control… it wrecks me. 

I can’t be replaced… can I?

This is where I belong…. right?

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