We are cursed to be slaves.
Slaves to the world,
Slaves to bitterness,
Slaves to discontent,
Slaves to a past so disfiguring we are forever changed.

We wear chains.
Chains of fear,
Chains of love,
Chains of hope.
Chains that cut deep into the skin, blood-stained and rusty.
And yet we try.

Once again his words reverberate through my soul launching me into a momentary state of detachedness. "Go away!" I scream internally at his distorted voice and the suggestion that it's my calling to live as if my life were on loop. "You could just be repeating your mistakes," he says. I sat in silence the first time I heard it with an embarrassed curl forming on my lips. The embarrassment has since been replaced with an inconsolable feeling of dread. A careless remark suddenly taking up temporary residence in the obsessive part of my mind. Just because I decided to make exceptions. But I definitely knew better. Life has taught me better but yet I did it... Again. Could it be that it's all a part of who we are? The reason we did it that very first time was because that's who we are and no manner of time and suffering would we learn from because when a similar situation comes along, once again we are compelled to do what instinct tells us. "Oh God, stop obsessing!"

Word of the day: Like a chipped nail, it was no less annoying, but no more significant.