I am.
Tired of being strong. Tired of trying to keep positive thoughts. Tired of physical pain every single day.
Tired of my own thoughts that don’t leave me in peace, but eat at me whenever I’m alone, which is most of the time. And of course, when I most want to sleep.
Tired of failure. All the pep talks in the world, while appreciated, don’t change the fact that my writing, my artwork, my efforts, keep coming to naught. Tired of trying to get attention for what I do, only to be let down over and over.
Tired of politics, and hate, and propaganda and misquotes and half-truths from both sides. Tired of watching the media play us against one another, while everyone posts platitudes that we must love each other, but very few pay them any mind or heed them.
Tired of the endless rut of my job, that I used to love, and now can barely take. Tired of dealing with my street, and the noise and stink from upstairs, and never being able to park. Tired of wanting better, but never being able to afford it, or reach it.
Tired of holidays, and commercials of happy couples and families, which I’ll never know.
Tired of this year. Go home, 2016. You’re drunk and disorderly. Leave us be. Please.
Maybe spring will be different, if it ever comes.
azbaelus 