2017.

I have convinced myself that I could accomplish great things, feeding into my delusions of grandeur. It is becoming increasingly apparent that I am lying. To myself, at the very least.

This road started out in earnest, hopeful but stupidly optimistic. My own inflated expectations trapping me, in a viscous bubble of depravity.

I hold myself hostage, akin to victims of the infamous Stockholm Syndrome, telling myself that I am worth more than this, without knowing what does 'this' actually refers to.

These irrational sentiments are further reinforced with every step I failed to take; tendrils of unseen chains pulling me down, into depths of dissonance.

I keep telling myself with increasing conviction that I'd deserve better but the fact remains, I am nobody;  nobody owes me anything.

The main takeaway? A quarter of cent, and nothing to show for it. Where is the line when you begin to question your sanity?

New year new nobody me. Heh.