The Bottom Line

I’m trapped. There is no other way to say it. I’m trapped in this life.

Death rests under my feet held at arms length by the rope on which I walk. It’s tight and narrow, a dirty beige line blaring in a spotlight. It groans as I walk. My toes tighten along the line as my weight makes it jerk and sway. It causes me to wobble and that’s bad. There’s no room for error in my performance. There’s little forgiveness. What forgiveness I do get, its hallow. The damage is done and there is no fixing it. It’s never forgotten.

There’s no room to turn around, no room to breathe. I just fear and walk and feel the eyes. I move forward, because its all I can do. It’s what’s expected and what the audience wants. God, parents, society, in the darkness they are all the same. You can’t see them because of the spot light, but they always remind you that they are there, always watching, always judging, yet always ignoring… well what I call attentively ignoring. They ignore you when you need them, then stare and hate you when you slip. You do your best and it’s never enough. They are never pleased, no matter what you do. But you are not allowed to quit. Quitting is worse than failing. So, you keep on walking. Keep on trudging until the rope ends.

I want to fall. I don’t want to die, but I’m tired of performing and failing.  I want to excel. I want to be loved. I want to touch the world in a significant way, yet I would be happy just living a simple life too. But all I do is fail, even with the basics of life.

When your life is scum, when your worth is less than zero, when what you do is unredeeming, what do you do?

I don’t think I’m going to make it. I’m just waiting to die. That’s the bottom line.