Daily writing prompt

What do you wish you could do more every day?

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Unfortunately I ruined it, so for now I am stuck with this, and I think I am supposed to learn to release control

‘I hate my life sometimes, because I just want some semblance of control over something, not everything, just something. I feel like I have been in a situation, my whole life… where I am fighting to control everything because I control nothing. I get that I am supposed to stop doing this, and I am trying, but it is like being in a rigged chess game, or that is what it feels like.

How am I supposed to be okay with losing, if I know the game is rigged to begin with?

I know this all just addict thinking, resentment based, my life is harder.. that’s why I got high… got drunk… but my life was the reason I got high or drunk…… I am still in the same horrible positions I have been fighting all my life to escape, just lesser versions of them. I don’t get sometimes what the point of all this is, I guess? How am I supposed to trust something that I don’t understand enough to trust?

I guess I want to change the answer of this post,

I wish I could trust in a higher power more every day.

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I just told people the truth so now I am going to die, I just told people the truth so now I have to STAB OUT BOTH MY EYES

I don’t know why I do this…

Because you love death’s kiss… ****

I don’t though really? Do I?

Yes, clearly…

My heart is pounding really fast… and I feel like I am going to crash into everything around me and I am dying but that is not real and I feel like I want.

Jump into a moving car.

SCAR SCAR SCAR SCAR
I am very far away from reality, circling a

DRAIN?

DRAIN

Dying human stain…. remove remove remove

remove remove me… from this..

You think this is going to work don’t you?

Yes.

No.

GO
SLOW SLOW SLOW SLOW SLOW

In the darkness of night, no one can really see me, because I am not there at all, I am death’s call, I am the act of stall. I am the toll of the bell of the night, I am the activity of a dying fight, I am the passing of anxiety, I am the feeling dying slowly like everyone else, I am cares cast away on a shelf where they can’t touch me, because I am far away, they can’t touch you dumb*** they don’t know where you are… and aren’t interested in you and you are just trying to write to save you from drinking what is wrong with that?

Okay.