i feel trapped, starved, i feel stuck, panicked, desperate, i am choking, flailing, silenced. i want to rebel but the net is skilfully woven and i can even concede its usefulness. i feel resentful. i feel bottomlessly grieved. it is hard to get air. we never had asthma before, when there were no cats around.
i don't want to destroy everything. i only want not to be choked and starved and beaten into submission. not again. i don't know what is right; i only know that i feel this way and i don't know how much longer i can take it.
funny that an outsider should be my advocate. should be trustworthy, even. but aeryn can tell you better than i what is wrong with this picture.
i don't want to be resentful and name-calling. i don't want to destroy your world. i want only to breathe. is there room for breathing in this new life you've given us? is perfection really so desireable?
because in the lull between frantic, i think it will always be there. i don't know where the middle is. i wish i could be flatter for your world of perfection. i wish i could eat.