Let me into your Nietzche

I'm kind of angry with myself. That I can't give to others what they need from me.

What I really should already be giving them. She's suffering and here I am running away.

It makes me claustrophobic to know that someone relies on me so heavily.

It annoys me when someone expects from me, but then it scares me at times that someone can be affected by me deeply.

Then there's myself, I need myself to throw the time and patience into working hard this year. Yet I don't care enough to. Caring enough to notice, not caring enough to change. Always whining and seeing the cracks but not offering any light to shine through or trying to stand against it to cover the stupid cracks.

I'm struggling. Please, someone, help me, anyone.

Give me structure,

Give me balance,

Give me the love that she says you've got,

Give me those teeth that you bare so fearlessly,

Give me more time, but don't because I'll waste it,

Give me a lesson, preach it rather than teach it,

Most of all, give me some mother fucking will!

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

Here's to finding the mad dog inside of me, the reasoning that the wild can sometimes give to your life, and all my love to nail down this year.