Square One

My life is like the concept of a cheap umbrella, when you least expect it, all protection from the storm seems to dissolve and collapse in front of you. Like the melting point of an eruption in a volcano, where as if all the self hatred and disgust you’ve built up over the years is on the urge of pouring over and destroying everything in its path. My history is something I’m not surprised isn’t in the text books because not only does the phrase ‘being in the wrong place at the wrong time’ describe me as a person, it describes my life. It’s like a cycle that keeps repeating itself. Picture this. I’m walking on the train tracks and the only way I can save myself is to let go, to fall, so I take a step forward in the arms of faith only to be knocked back down again to square one. And that’s where I stayed. So forget the history text books, you won’t find loss of trust and love in the context page, because history is a load of useless bull that no one will ever need in life. This is my untold story...
This is Square One.