Self-destruct

For now I have climbed to the peaks, and the mountains disappear to small ant hills. I feel nothing but the wind and disappointment. The world seems so small and it gets to me. I’m alive, on the top of the world. For now, nothing is going to get me. For now, I am cold and weary. This, a sense of achievement? I don’t think so. Failure is what I am. For what I have become, and myself, I couldn’t have become any worst. My life, in pieces and my motivation to get up in the mornings, non-existent but yet I’m on top of the world. What am I suppose to feel? What am I suppose to be? The tallest mountain on earth could not bring me the sense of freedom and peace I long for. I am spinning round and round. No one’s going to catch me. I’m falling. Down, down, down. Don’t save me. Please. This is the best feeling I’ve had in ages.