I'm Tired

I'm just tired of being broke all the time. To be honest, I'm just tired of everything. Tired of having nothing, tired of having to struggle, tired of no one listening. You know, if the court had listened when I was a kid, three other kids wouldn't have been molested. If that young soldier had listened to me, we would have avoided the tragic suicide I had to witness. If Christina had listened to me, she wouldn't have been raped by those guys at the bar. And if Denton had listened to me, I wouldn't have lost everything again.

It's like I'm always shouting into the void, and no one cares enough to hear. This constant battle against an uncaring world has wore me down. I wake up every day feeling like I'm just existing, not living. It feels like the weight of every bad decision, every ignored warning, and every missed opportunity is crushing me.

I think about all the times I've tried to warn people, tried to make them see what was coming. But it's like I'm invisible, my voice unheard. If people just took a moment to listen, so much pain could have been avoided. But here I am, left to pick up the pieces of a life shaped by others' fucked up agendas and my own misfortune.

I'm tired of the struggle. Every day feels like a fight for survival, and it's exhausting. It’s not just about being broke; it's about the emotional and mental toll of constantly trying to keep my head above water. No one really sees how deep the struggle goes. They see a man trying to make it through the day, but they don't see the inner battles, the scars that aren't visible.

If only people had listened, things could have been so different. Maybe I wouldn't feel so alone, so defeated. Maybe I could finally find some peace and start healing from all the past wounds. But for now, it feels like I'm trapped in this endless cycle of pain and frustration. And I'm just so damn tired of it all.

I'm at a point now where all the planning is done. I've figured out the how and the what; the only thing left is the when. I can't say for sure if there's still a small tank sliver of hope left inside me or if I'm just too scared to follow through. Every day, I find myself wondering why I haven't done it yet. Maybe some part of me is holding on, hoping that things will change, or maybe it's the fear of the unknown that keeps me from taking that final step. Each morning I wake up and ask myself the same question: what's stopping me?

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