135 / 2025 abyss

Year in year out, the same old weight burdens. 

The addiction lingers like a silent plague, seeping into the crevices of my soul, unwelcome yet insidious, defying my every attempt to exorcise it. It is a shadow that thrives on my resistance, a siren call I cannot unhear, pulling me into the same abyss over and over again. Like gravity, it demands surrender. Like a haunting, it ensures I am never alone. I fall, not because I choose to, but because the pattern has etched itself into the fabric of my being, an unrelenting rhythm that binds me to my undoing.

Make no mistake. It is an abyss, and it bears no bliss. Seeking its validation feels like chasing a ghost through a labyrinth I can never escape. Its absence carved a void so deep that calls for unreciprocated approval, as though its acknowledgment could stitch together the pieces of me it left behind. It’s an addiction, a relentless pull into the emptiness it created, like gravity dragging me into the same unyielding pattern, with no way but down, even as I know its silence will never fill the spaces it abandoned.

May I no longer drag this intangible heaviness with me this 2025.