nothing about the weather

I'm back sitting at a desk and I'm facing a wall.

I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed to write, I'm embarrassed to admit this to this place I'm in.
 I can't write anymore, so my words are dull as is the context.
Sad, sad, sad.
I'm sick of that fucking word, and what it means, and it's ability to seep in and around anything potential.

I don't want to get personal with myself.
maybe im scared to see what personally i actually am, or moreso what i've become. therefore what could and are the reasons to what i'm hiding from i already know about the guilt but i'm not sure if i can finally admit how disappointed i am in myself, or even more so how long it has taken me to get to that stage.
i don't even want to write about this shit but i don't know where else to put it. No body wants to hear it, fuck, I don't even want to hear it but I have to understand the reasons as to why I'm back here, sitting in front of a bare fucking wall, guessing I should somehow be starting again and, or, trying to remember who I am, or what I was, what I thought was cool, or why I had even forgotten about all these wonderful things in the first place.
Again with this "sadness"; that of which I shouldn't really be mocking because at the end of this post I'll  probably be either feeling this "sadness", or hopefully, I could walk off pleased with an understanding I can live with, but probably not.
Maybe I'm just scared to find out what actually hurt me was just me.
 I've been sitting here (not in the same spot facing a wall] but sitting here and realising I have been blaming it all on whoever I can remember was around and who mattered.
I dont want to stop blaming them, to only then blame myself and leave them as the innocent. Because they're not around anymore, it'd would only be embarrassing if I only held myself responsible.
I am not prepared to admit to it all.
 Maybe I don't have to, but I might anyway so I don't have to be thinking the life I've lead growing up was abused by the opportunity from others as well as my own curiosity.

I'm scared to reach the point where I ask myself, after I'm finally able to apprehend it all only to then ask was it all really worth it, because it probably never was.