There are days were all I think about is alienating my mind to grasp to the last of my will power, where hope is the tiny thread I hold on to, to avoid ending.

I feel like I'm running a marathon with no end and everytime I stumble I get trampled instead of helped to get back on my feet. Yet I realise I'm so lucky I have enough to eat and drink and enough to spend on silly stuff and my whimpering is an insult to those less fortunate.

I'm trying to find something to keep me busy and my mind off things.