I have been praying to God to help me. No amount of shame or guilt will prevent me from achieving my goal. I hope that the Lord will guide me into a new incentive.
That’s what I’ve been fixated on lately; the incentive. Call it a carrot dangling on a stick, but any escape from the hellscape my forefathers promised is worth pursuing. Honesty a failure in deception, and liars are well-named after their buried counterparts. I am without subject, refusal to comply.
What alternative to you offer to my future? How much effort is worth a departure from my current convenience? Changing a mind is paramount to success; especially your own. It requires interest to enact action. What sacrifices are deemed trivial in the name of outcome?
I am without difference. I do not possess any unique quality. It is simple and very easy to wind up in the profession I am in. This is not Maceavallian; this is economics. The electricity bill determines the amount of babies thrown in the dryer.
An offer I can’t refuse? What are you; my landlord? I am sick of this perception that third parties insist they force upon me. Credit score determined by how much of a bitch you were in the third and fourth quarter. Instead of getting CTE by million-dollar concussions; you comply to mandatory headaches due to how low you sold yourself for.
I don’t know better. That’s what you tell yourself.
I’m tired of the term “weaponized incompetence.” How lethal is a suicide, besides the victimless corpse lying beside birthday wishes and empty investments? The perpetrator attempts to hurt by enacting a sense of lack; a significance to their manufactured disempowerment.
Work is work, bills are bills; we all have a certain amount necessary to establish sanity and routine that is taken away by brute force and from our frost-bitten dying fingers. “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.”
Still doesn’t explain where I’m coming from. I could tell you the most abhorrent, offensive encounters that I, not only witness to, but participant that would leave you either rejecting vulnerable truth like a good-little boy, or purely unsatisfied.
Sorry isn’t enough. If you beg for long enough, someone will say sorry. Apologies are just reflections of failures of action. Teachers teach, lovers love, we are what we succumb to be.
Rejection is no longer defiance. When I was younger, and older women tried to pry open virgin flesh and dislocate fractured expectations, I denied these weak portrayals of passion. Too easy. In hind-sight, I understand that this was a primal reaction or primordial force guiding me to safety; enacting cosmic protection. However, contemporary rejection is treated as a resignation.
Hilarious the amount of bullshit I have put up with. Tally marks indicating the fragility of my pride and ambition. I’m not saying I held mine like a flock to covet; but more like a murder to set free and open fire upon. I don’t know how else to tell you this.
I didn’t feel anything. The God-like promise of composure never materialized. My vision turned grey, and I only saw the same; felt the same, and nothing could prepare me for the feeling of empty-hall abandonment. This cannot be your fault; just a reflection of my “nothing special.”
I pray to God that something changes. I cannot bear the thought of all of this being for nothing.
ZCUMCORE 
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