A Web of Self-Defeat

The days, the weeks and months slip by. It is curious that the withering should strike so soon. It is as if self-defeat is coded upon a level so deep that its tempting to deem it genetic or worse. It is frustrating and the writer sees no positive in it.

The writer’s continued silence requires that it be torn into analytically, to seek to gain any degree of understanding the depth of the writer’s perpetual failing, in an effort to glean any value whatsoever from this experience…

On one level the writer wishes this website to be positively inclined and yet the writer’s self is so negatively inclined, cynical. 

On another level the writer knows that there is much wished to be said, and yet the vast majority of that is ripped to shreds by a layered miasma. If the writer were to attempt to define the component toxic vapors then such would be listed as follows:

– Doubt concerning the validity or relevance of the unspoken
– Doubt concerning the ‘point’ of the unspoken being spoken
– A decimated faith in humanity in general
– A decimated faith in the writer’s self

The net result is that the writer has great difficulty finding anything that the self is willing to say which is worth saying. The writer is not even angry any more. Merely perpetually disappointed.

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