When I used to focus on one thing. When I used to love and have drive for a single thing. An unparalleled need and fire to accomplish something. A song, a script, film. Not anymore.

Now it’s all gone. It’s all gone to somewhere I cannot reach. I am my own worst enemy. I have no fire, no drive, no balls, no teeth. I don’t even know how I’m sitting here writing this. I’m wasting it. I’m wasting it all. I don’t recall the last time I accomplished a passion project. I can’t even recall the last time I WANTED such things, or a time I wasn’t being materialistic for one second and wanted something more, something lasting, like I used to.

Where did it all go? I can only blame myself, as they say. I do. Blame myself that is. But I still cannot get to the bottom of it, whatever it is, wherever it went. The things I used to have in me, potential, drive, a future of immense joy in accomplishing feats of my own imagination, endless creativity, a successful calling, career, job. I used to imagine all of it, and know how. But here I sit, alone. I have none of those things and I consider myself a failure. They say you’re only what you say you are, and I suppose that’s true too. But if I could somehow change all that, right now, I certainly would. As if I could just will it to be. To stop coming down on myself like a hammer in a nail in a coffin or 2x4 among all the rest in a house where a mother neglects her child and a father drinks and screams at his kids. If I knew how to change myself, I would. I guess I need help. I’m not sure where I am anymore. I’m in an endless void of nothing. Every day is the same.

Have I been here before? Is there some light at the end of the tunnel?

Or is this it.