lifeline

I want to stop. I want to stop. I want to stop.
Noone can help me and I can't either. If I could sift you out of my DNA, I would have done it by now.
I can't quit these feeble words dissociated from reality and yet rooted in it. I've left so many lines drip through my fiber, letting them dissipate in the ether, wasting them in essence and hoping I'd be discouraged, I'd be disappointed in my own self and even more - this innate stream of thoughts and inspiration would dry up.
It doesn't.
It will never stop. I have to be honest with myself.
I have to embrace being horrible at it for a few decades, persistently improving. If I saw it as a crutch, I was wrong. It's my strongest arm. It's how I hold on to dear life.


Language is my lifeline.