A Mountain Out of a Molehill:

Some days I wake up and start to count the things I take for granted. I am not hungry, I have friends, a family that loves me, a nice place to live... but still I am sad. I am sad and sometimes I look and somehow see my sorrows as grotesque. This urban life is but a fiction of malody. A world where the human condition breathes true in every heart, we chain ourselves to the fight. The fight for joy, the fight for comfort, our need for love is what makes us... Still, I look at each day with poetry, a mountain out of a molehill. What else could I do?

Today, every emotion rips through me. I lay down, and try to see beyond the everyday that haunts me. The lover that stole himself from me still holds hostage my waking life. I know I will see him soon and the fear is tearing me apart.

The sky threatens rain again and my eyes seem sure to follow. I stare catatonically at the wall, my aching bones like nothingness. I don't really know what I can see anymore. I just don't know.