Diary of A Black Man #17

Dear Diary,

For the last 3 nights I’ve awaken to a lack of oxygen, as almost as to indicate sickness but more so closer to a feeling of death. I find myself filled with congestion, yet water does not subdue and at a final completion of mucus removal I find my mouth to be a barren sore orifice. I can’t pinpoint the reason, I’ve been active but can say I’ve also dabbled in guilty pleasures but I feel helpless. Unfortunately nobody is here to save the day except myself. I constantly battle with this level of self destruction. In battle I constantly spar within myself. Bustling for possible success and distinct position. My mind slowly digesting my thoughts and utilizing them as response. I push forward not truly because I want to fully but more so I have an obligation to. My mental will not fail me as it has done in the past. My voice shall not quiver or remain silent as it has in the past.

I ……

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