1/1: 18 broken record

I wish I could change. I try to change. I wish I could change, I try to change. Touch grass, smoke grass, exercise, meditate, journal, create and express, vent, void, deep breaths and search for an off switch to calm the noise. Nothing but fuck screaming in my head. Look back, look forward, try and focus on the now. Wtf. Wtf. A spiral up, or a spiral down, directions hard to determine. So many times on this ride looking for a way off. Where are these green fields and sunrises people keep telling me about. In small spurts and puffs, hope is seen then taken away. Grabbing on for dear life desperate to pull myself up and out. Nothing but heavy metal crushing down on my thoughts. The song ends, the needle lifts, resets, and it all begins again.

Wessel ‘22