Broken Mirrors

I don’t know what the purpose of this post is. Maybe none. I don’t know who, what, or where I am anymore. I look in the mirror for help, but there is no one looking back at me. I don’t know how to make sense of what’s going through my head nonstop. A little further. Stop. Turn around. Stop. Full steam ahead. Stop. Where the hell do I go if none of those directions are fulfilling?

Who am I? I wish by the Gods I could answer that. Am I the same loser I always was from my first memory until this very moment? Am I something more? Am I something less? Does it matter? Do I matter? Would anyone even understand if I tried telling them?

What am I? Am I still a joke? A punching bag? The world’s whipping child? A whiny brat who can’t make up their own pathetic mind?

Does this inane rambling matter to anyone, myself included? By the very definition of “inane”, the answer is a solid NO. So apparently there is no point. I wish I could think of a replacement that would be an improvement over me. But even with my value circling the drain, it’s hard to find someone who is masochistic enough to be willing to step into my shoes.

”All that I loved, I loved alone.”
- Edgar Allen Poe