"reality" of nothingness

there is no such thing is there?
"reality" should always be in quotation. everyone has a different one. Driven by addictions and vices and uncontrolled emotions that blind us from the truth and take away facts, logic, reason... all thrown to the wind.

i sit here in my mind. tears sloshing around like a great ocean inside my head. my "reality" being that i have no rose colored glasses. they were taken away from me. ripped out of my hand instead to be handed nothing. each brick of my being is taken away from my house, one by one. i stand naked and cold, waiting, knowing there isn't a blanket to cover me in this empty universe that i am forced to travel alone.  "reality" has been harsh on me... it isn't easier as of yet. perhaps one day i might catch a break. perhaps one day there will be a man that would lay his life down for me and be my forever best friend. perhaps one day he will accept me and my past and all i come with and see it as the most beautiful thing in the world. perhaps we can save each other and do beautiful things together. my "reality" is very lonely , a strange sadness always followed my hardest attempts at happiness. Oh so close every time, but i fall short of whatever it was that made my world spin with happiness. Almost. An Almost life. She was almost happy, she was almost successful, she was almost loved... almost is an optimistic word. The "reality" of almost is this: She was never loved, she was never successful, she was never happy, she could have had it all but she just didn't. Others got her scarifies. Others benefited from all her investments. Yes, she fought hard to show a man what true love really meant just so he could understand, leave her and find a wonderful life with another younger one.

reality is that there is a burning pain in my chest and it won't go away. all the bullshit writing i do here seem to take it away for a brief amount of time. a mental band aid so that i don't burden those around me with all the things i feel and want to say. "reality" is no one wants to listen to what i have to say, or how i feel. People make their own decisions in life and move on. Move on without me. time doesn't care, it goes on like a train into the night not stopping. Sometimes i think that in a past life i must have been a really terrible person. A truly terrible person. A manipulative liar that took and took and took from everyone and never gave back. A selfish, egoistic two faced fuck up that had no respect for life. Ya, i must have done something wrong to see things written on the wallas plain as day and receive no mercy in the form of ignorance or stupidity. Perhaps i am stupid and need divine intervention in the form of a brain? perhaps i have it all wrong. i probably do and that is why i sit here think  of cappuccino's and cry.

mercy. please... mercy.