Frustration is prevalent in my mind, like a intruder, deep working hard in my mind – unwelcome, yet invited…
The pain of realisation, the slow drift displacment of comfort.
I’m so yet I’m less so – and this I know and it breaks me inside.
How fragile am I? Can one destroy oneself? Do I allow for emotional self destruction??
Where is my mind.
I height of frustration is not knowing what one wants.