Consumed

In having something I do not want, I realize what it is that I want.

The only question is whether or not it is attainable or not. I fear for the latter. I fear that I will never have what it is that I want - that there is this vacant space in me that can never be filled.

Maybe it isn't possible to have what you want, or maybe its just a matter of learning to want what you have. Is contentment a sort of giving up? Does it even exist?

Lately there has been this feeling inside of me, like an burning itch that I cannot scratch, pestering and festering, pushing me closer and closer to the brink of madness.

I long to find out what it is.

Is it dissatisfaction? Loneliness perhaps?

I can only remember a few times in my life that I have been free from this feeling. Its when I am passionately working towards something, or fulfilling a duty so important that I lose myself completely in the act.

Maybe its the raging passion inside of me starving to be satiated. The thing is, I can't do anything about it now. Inaction is the only correct action in this case, so I must withstand the temptation to do something stupid with myself.

Perhaps this feeling is magnified by my prolonged isolation. I'm supposed to wait and bide my time, meanwhile ignoring the hungry hellfire within me. 

Hopefully it doesn't consume me first.