I am not this kinda girl, man. 

I am not the type to disregard my intuitions, nor the type to ignore my every bodily instinct luring me into sleep for the sake of resolving mental conflicts. I need sleep. And maybe it’s its deprivation prompting these emotions in the first place, but this bitterness is muting my senses and impeding the memory of serenity’s sweetness. 

Man, my losing sleep over matters as trivial as this, pisses me off. My inability to deter my focus from this, pisses me off. My reaction to this… Disappoints me.

But this, in itself, is a blessing. 

See, the difference between then and now is my hesitation to act upon an instinct I once considered second nature. 

I am no longer the subject of my own pity, and, now, it’s with great reluctance that I publicize discontentment within any single aspect of my life. 

But, I, am exhausted. 

This year has stripped every fiber of my being of its will and deteriorated the state of my every dimension of wellness. 

So, this is me, raising the white flag of surrender to my circumstances. And as I lay in my defeat, all I can think about is how much damn effort is required to keep this flag up. 

I cannot do this anymore.