the struggle.

I can't sleep.

I have a splitting headache, a restless mind and a torn heart.

My most treasured ideal, freedom, eludes me.

I empathize with the dolphins that are caught in tuna nets. They're not meant to be captured but they are the sacrifice for the profit of others. I totally feel that concept right now in my life.

I've surrounded myself with the ideal that I could accomplish a great deal...that I could make something big with the people around me...and the disappointment I continually feel on a daily basis has made me feel a captive in my own creation.

Countless hours, days, weeks, months, years...to feel like it's futile.

A struggle...and a struggle still as I try to find grounding for my next steps.

What's the meaning of this life? What's my purpose? Do I even know who I am?

My energy has been poured into something that I'd hope would be a thing of beauty. Instead I feel ugliness: a lack of focus and dedication, a feeling of being used up, having to pick up all the pieces around me for the ultimate benefit of others who don't seem to have any real connection to me and what I do, for them, for us, in the hopes of a dream.

A Dream Deferred
by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?