Out of the many things that I hate about myself having a genuinely nice nature is something that i'd like to live without.
I don't know what is inside of me that forces me to be kind or how it even got there in the first place when I came from such the opposite environment.
When I was around 15 years old I discovered Ghandi. Well, I knew about him before this but after watching some documentary around that age something clicked inside of me, so I started reading everything I could find about him. I remember thinking "This is it. This man is right. This is the way to do things." Because at the time it made so much sense to me. From my point of view, it was just a much better way of handling things rather than beating the shit out of each other and whoever was more physically adept wins the arguement. That's probably why I leaned more towards his teachings instead of following my familys footsteps. But even before that i've always had this kindness to me. I was always told it was because I was sensitive. I was always told it was weak. Either way, I've never had a choice. It was always a part of me, and i've always hated it. Because nice guys finish last.
I think one of the most frustrating things is that i'm constantly taken advantage of. Not at first, people are generally awkward because of it, but once they get to know me and see that it's just who I am, they take and take and take until I have nothing left but my dignity. and then they take that as well.
The idea of it being weak. I hate that. Nice = Weak? Mean = Strong? Who made up these rules? And were they drunk at the time? They must've been very angry people and were probably men. My idea of weakness is completely different. I consider myself weak in some areas of my life, but the fact that i've survived throughout everything that i've been through and after the many years I spent destroying both my body and mind.. I think that in itself is pretty strong. The fact that I never gave up and came out somewhat okay is strong. Okay, okay. Technically I give up all the time and i've even failed to kill myself, but still!!
At this particular point in my life I really believe it does not matter weather you're kind or if you're horrible. I don't think there are any consequences, I think they are simply choices. Two different paths, you can take either one, but in the end it does not matter. That's why I wish it wasn't a part of me. I look at some of the people in my family and I see how far they've gotten because they're not afraid to fuck someone over. What it all boils down to is it's a much easier path. And that's a part of me also, i've always wished things were easier. I want to take the easier path. I just can't because there's something inside of me that wont allow it.
I'm really sick of people trying to make it something that it's not. Why am I nice? Because I want to be. I think it's pointless not to be. Why do I want to help everyone in any way I can? Because it makes me feel amazing and I wish I could've gotten it when I wanted it the most. Why be so kind to complete strangers? Because I want complete strangers to be kind to me.
I just don't see the point. Why be mean? Why would anyone want to hurt someone physically or emotionally? My older sister used to beat the shit out of anyone who looked at her wrong. I always felt so sorry for those people throughout highschool. I couldn't understand it. I dont understand it now. Why do people want to fight? Why do they want to hurt each other? Just like kindness is a part of me, there's something inside of them as well. Something that makes them want to hurt others. and i'm sure it makes sense to them. i'm sure there are reasons. I just can't agree with them. I wonder if they know about Ghandi.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
A Reminder
Love isn't something you feel, it's something you do.
If the person you're with doesn't want it, do yourself a favor and save it for someone who does.
I'm just saying you only get one life.
There's no God, no rules, no judgments,
except for those you accept or create for yourself.
And once it's over, it's over.
Dreamless sleep forever and ever.
So why not be happy while you're here?
Really.. Why not?
(Thank you Six Feet Under.)
If the person you're with doesn't want it, do yourself a favor and save it for someone who does.
I'm just saying you only get one life.
There's no God, no rules, no judgments,
except for those you accept or create for yourself.
And once it's over, it's over.
Dreamless sleep forever and ever.
So why not be happy while you're here?
Really.. Why not?
(Thank you Six Feet Under.)
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Death
If I were to die right now, what would happen when I'm gone? Who would care? What difference would it make? For me, it would be freedom. But for those I leave here.. what would it be like for them?
My Mother.
I already know. It's ironic that my mother wants the same thing that I do: to be close with each other.. because we both just can't do it. It's been too long. There's too much history. It's to awkward now. We can barely hug each other without there being some odd feeling involved. The few times when we say "I love you" it is so hesitant. If I were to die and she found all the things i've written, I think I'd know exactly how she would feel. Because there have been a few times where she's stumbled across my words, where she has heard a portion of the conversations i've had with other people. She knows there's an entire world I hide from her. Not that it's anything that she doesn't know, it's just things we can't talk about to each other. I know she would realize that she never knew me, that she has no idea who I am. She would hate herself because of it. She would look at herself and see it. She would have to, because she was there the entire time. I was never trying to change her, I was just trying to understand. I just wanted her to know I didn't want the same things, because from what she has shown me throughout my life, it is too much. I am her son. She knows i'm emotional and sensitive. I'm not as strong as her. I can't live life in that way and be happy. It's impossible for me, because it's not real.
Kelly.
I have always been verbal with Kelly. She knows things. Horrible things, I have told her much of what goes on in my mind since I was very young. But she likes to ignore. She likes to ignore it all, pretend like it's okay and just move forward. She would hate herself, because she would think that she could have done something about it. To change me. To do something about what's happened. I recently told her about me getting raped by a family friend. I'm not sure if she told my mother, but I hope so. Because I would never be able to tell her myself. She was destroyed by it, but it made her realize some things about myself. She wanted to know who it was but I wouldn't tell her. All she would do is try to do something about it and I definately did not want that. It has been so long. I have tried to wrap my mind around it. I don't want to have to deal with it or bring it up now in my life when it means nothing to me anymore. And I didn't want him to all of the sudden end up being punished in his life, so randomly. I'm sure he thinks about it from time to time. He has to, he did it. I'm sure it haunts him, and I think that's enough. I think if I were to die, Kelly would be able to be there for my mother. She would be able to tell my mother all the things I could never tell her myself.
My sisters.
Tara.
I hope everything i've ever told her would finally click if I were to die. I've told her everything, and only to her out of everyone in my family. And she has listened to nothing. I dont blame her, age has alot to do with it, so does being a girl. So does the fact that I was trying to be more protective than understanding. I just wanted her to realize things so she didn't have to go through things herself. I just wanted her to know about life so that she could make the right kind of decisions. But all my trying, all my words have be useless to her so far. She's killing herself slowly, and she doesn't even know it. She will eventually, because everyone realizes it at some point in their life. But for now... She gets all those feelings that she has ever wanted, all that love, from all the wrong kind of people. People that use and abuse her. I hear the conversations with her and her friends and it makes my stomach cringe. It makes me want to fucking kill them. She has no self respect. Does she like being treated like dirt? Or is it exhilarating for her because it's the only type of love she thinks is real? At this point, it really is the only good thing she is getting, maybe she's just trying to find it from anywhere. I can't say my family is giving her anything better. I'm certainly not trying to help her anymore. I can't even help myself. I just can't understand why she's okay with it. She saw abuse, so now why would she live with it? I didn't end up like that. Why would she? I guess I would never know, because I'd be dead. And she'd never know, because I stopped trying to talk to her.
Adriann.
I think this hurts me the most. The fact that I'm not sure at all what to write about her. I've always kept her out, and she has tried to get close to me. I never let it happen. The reasons are because she reminds me of my mother. She always has, her actions, when we were younger and growing up, the way she treated her friends and the people around her as if they were nothing, controlling them, stealing, lying to them, it was just horrible and disgusting from my point of view at the time. I thought I knew her from all the things she was doing, and that was my biggest mistake. Because the truth is I don't know a single thing about her. Not one. Because I never gave her the chance. There's so much more to her, i've seen it recently with being around her, and watching her raise her kids, all the things i've missed out on, all the similarities between us. We did come from the same place after all. I've always considered her an outsider. If I were to die, I know she would be devestated, because she has only tried and tried to have a relationship with me. And I always said no. And now that i'd be dead, there would be no more trying. No more chances at having a brother.
My Friends.
What fucking friends? I can only regret so much of the relationships that I cut out of my life when I was younger. They did nothing healthy for me, they could never understand. They saw my family and made me realize how abnormal it was by showing me theirs. What the hell is normal? Why is it when I sit here and think of "friends" there is only two people that come to mind, throughout my entire life:
Cathryn.
I hate it. I fucking hate it. The most recent, and the last time I gave someone a chance at this thing called friendship. She was my bestfriend. Because there has been no one who has gotten as close to me as she has. I let her know me for years, and she has seen me throughout my most vulnurable of times. And she is gone now. I don't know what happened. I think I was too much for her, I wouldn't shut up about everything- that's my fucking problem with having a bestfriend. When someone wants to be close to me, I have to tell them everything. That's not something I can help, I tell them every single thing. And they see the hypocracy, the confusion, they see an imperfect human being. and they lose interest. Because i'm so much more interested in telling them things that are real to me, rather than making them laugh so that they'll like me and stick around. She is like me. Life may have been different for us, but we took it in the same way. She's sad. We understand why we're both sad. But where did she go? Where is she now? I have no idea, because its been a long time since we've talked. and longer than that since we've really talked. I think if I were to die, she may not be able to handle it. Not one more thing on top of everything she already has to handle. Life is hard for her like it's hard for me. Probably even more now since we've let each other go. She'd regret all this time we've stopped talking to each other, probably even more than I regret it now.
I don't know why i'm so fascinated by death. It's not the same for me as it is for other people. I know that, because people are so scared of it, and I crave it. People really never believe that when they hear it. They can't comprehend that another human being has this grasp on death, or the fact that they view it as something good instead of something horrible. But then again they haven't thought about it all their lives like I have. It's something so much more than what people make of it. It is freedom. To me, It isn't the end. It's the beginning. It causes change. It makes people left behind realize things they never could without it. It is the road to awe. It is the exchange of energy. Death is what makes life important.
Death.. to me..
It is so beautiful.
My Mother.
I already know. It's ironic that my mother wants the same thing that I do: to be close with each other.. because we both just can't do it. It's been too long. There's too much history. It's to awkward now. We can barely hug each other without there being some odd feeling involved. The few times when we say "I love you" it is so hesitant. If I were to die and she found all the things i've written, I think I'd know exactly how she would feel. Because there have been a few times where she's stumbled across my words, where she has heard a portion of the conversations i've had with other people. She knows there's an entire world I hide from her. Not that it's anything that she doesn't know, it's just things we can't talk about to each other. I know she would realize that she never knew me, that she has no idea who I am. She would hate herself because of it. She would look at herself and see it. She would have to, because she was there the entire time. I was never trying to change her, I was just trying to understand. I just wanted her to know I didn't want the same things, because from what she has shown me throughout my life, it is too much. I am her son. She knows i'm emotional and sensitive. I'm not as strong as her. I can't live life in that way and be happy. It's impossible for me, because it's not real.
Kelly.
I have always been verbal with Kelly. She knows things. Horrible things, I have told her much of what goes on in my mind since I was very young. But she likes to ignore. She likes to ignore it all, pretend like it's okay and just move forward. She would hate herself, because she would think that she could have done something about it. To change me. To do something about what's happened. I recently told her about me getting raped by a family friend. I'm not sure if she told my mother, but I hope so. Because I would never be able to tell her myself. She was destroyed by it, but it made her realize some things about myself. She wanted to know who it was but I wouldn't tell her. All she would do is try to do something about it and I definately did not want that. It has been so long. I have tried to wrap my mind around it. I don't want to have to deal with it or bring it up now in my life when it means nothing to me anymore. And I didn't want him to all of the sudden end up being punished in his life, so randomly. I'm sure he thinks about it from time to time. He has to, he did it. I'm sure it haunts him, and I think that's enough. I think if I were to die, Kelly would be able to be there for my mother. She would be able to tell my mother all the things I could never tell her myself.
My sisters.
Tara.
I hope everything i've ever told her would finally click if I were to die. I've told her everything, and only to her out of everyone in my family. And she has listened to nothing. I dont blame her, age has alot to do with it, so does being a girl. So does the fact that I was trying to be more protective than understanding. I just wanted her to realize things so she didn't have to go through things herself. I just wanted her to know about life so that she could make the right kind of decisions. But all my trying, all my words have be useless to her so far. She's killing herself slowly, and she doesn't even know it. She will eventually, because everyone realizes it at some point in their life. But for now... She gets all those feelings that she has ever wanted, all that love, from all the wrong kind of people. People that use and abuse her. I hear the conversations with her and her friends and it makes my stomach cringe. It makes me want to fucking kill them. She has no self respect. Does she like being treated like dirt? Or is it exhilarating for her because it's the only type of love she thinks is real? At this point, it really is the only good thing she is getting, maybe she's just trying to find it from anywhere. I can't say my family is giving her anything better. I'm certainly not trying to help her anymore. I can't even help myself. I just can't understand why she's okay with it. She saw abuse, so now why would she live with it? I didn't end up like that. Why would she? I guess I would never know, because I'd be dead. And she'd never know, because I stopped trying to talk to her.
Adriann.
I think this hurts me the most. The fact that I'm not sure at all what to write about her. I've always kept her out, and she has tried to get close to me. I never let it happen. The reasons are because she reminds me of my mother. She always has, her actions, when we were younger and growing up, the way she treated her friends and the people around her as if they were nothing, controlling them, stealing, lying to them, it was just horrible and disgusting from my point of view at the time. I thought I knew her from all the things she was doing, and that was my biggest mistake. Because the truth is I don't know a single thing about her. Not one. Because I never gave her the chance. There's so much more to her, i've seen it recently with being around her, and watching her raise her kids, all the things i've missed out on, all the similarities between us. We did come from the same place after all. I've always considered her an outsider. If I were to die, I know she would be devestated, because she has only tried and tried to have a relationship with me. And I always said no. And now that i'd be dead, there would be no more trying. No more chances at having a brother.
My Friends.
What fucking friends? I can only regret so much of the relationships that I cut out of my life when I was younger. They did nothing healthy for me, they could never understand. They saw my family and made me realize how abnormal it was by showing me theirs. What the hell is normal? Why is it when I sit here and think of "friends" there is only two people that come to mind, throughout my entire life:
Cathryn.
I hate it. I fucking hate it. The most recent, and the last time I gave someone a chance at this thing called friendship. She was my bestfriend. Because there has been no one who has gotten as close to me as she has. I let her know me for years, and she has seen me throughout my most vulnurable of times. And she is gone now. I don't know what happened. I think I was too much for her, I wouldn't shut up about everything- that's my fucking problem with having a bestfriend. When someone wants to be close to me, I have to tell them everything. That's not something I can help, I tell them every single thing. And they see the hypocracy, the confusion, they see an imperfect human being. and they lose interest. Because i'm so much more interested in telling them things that are real to me, rather than making them laugh so that they'll like me and stick around. She is like me. Life may have been different for us, but we took it in the same way. She's sad. We understand why we're both sad. But where did she go? Where is she now? I have no idea, because its been a long time since we've talked. and longer than that since we've really talked. I think if I were to die, she may not be able to handle it. Not one more thing on top of everything she already has to handle. Life is hard for her like it's hard for me. Probably even more now since we've let each other go. She'd regret all this time we've stopped talking to each other, probably even more than I regret it now.
I don't know why i'm so fascinated by death. It's not the same for me as it is for other people. I know that, because people are so scared of it, and I crave it. People really never believe that when they hear it. They can't comprehend that another human being has this grasp on death, or the fact that they view it as something good instead of something horrible. But then again they haven't thought about it all their lives like I have. It's something so much more than what people make of it. It is freedom. To me, It isn't the end. It's the beginning. It causes change. It makes people left behind realize things they never could without it. It is the road to awe. It is the exchange of energy. Death is what makes life important.
Death.. to me..
It is so beautiful.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
tomorrow
well I feel much better now that i spent a couple nights getting so drunk that I thought I was a completely different person with a much better life.
most people say that getting drunk is no way to solve one's problems. they clearly have never been raped.
It was healthy for me. In my attempt to drown out reality and purge all emotion I came to a very important realization. Something I almost let myself forget because I was so focused on what was going on at the time and what I was feeling.
Today: Life sucks.. but tomorrow... well, tomorrow life will still probably suck, but it could be much better!!
There's always tomorrow. Tomorrow will feel different. It is a brand new day with nothing but possibilities. I can start over every tomorrow. I spent the past couple last nights just thinking about everything. That's always dangerous, my thoughts always get me in trouble because they always go to dark places. I tend to fall into this hole full of hopelessness and I really do believe in the moment that everything is so pointless, I completely forget about tomorrow.
Change requires action and time. I'm so impatient, I look back at the few years i've lived and think what a waste of time..
But I don't think time is ever really wasted. All those insigificant things in my life, when I think about it long enough, sort of had to happen. They were small pieces of life that made me who I am today. Who cares if most of them were terrible? The result is good, I do like who I am becoming.
In order to have change, action must be taken. It's my goal to try and remember it. Less crying, more trying. And even if its a bad day, even if things get chaotic again.
There's always tomorrow.
most people say that getting drunk is no way to solve one's problems. they clearly have never been raped.
It was healthy for me. In my attempt to drown out reality and purge all emotion I came to a very important realization. Something I almost let myself forget because I was so focused on what was going on at the time and what I was feeling.
Today: Life sucks.. but tomorrow... well, tomorrow life will still probably suck, but it could be much better!!
There's always tomorrow. Tomorrow will feel different. It is a brand new day with nothing but possibilities. I can start over every tomorrow. I spent the past couple last nights just thinking about everything. That's always dangerous, my thoughts always get me in trouble because they always go to dark places. I tend to fall into this hole full of hopelessness and I really do believe in the moment that everything is so pointless, I completely forget about tomorrow.
Change requires action and time. I'm so impatient, I look back at the few years i've lived and think what a waste of time..
But I don't think time is ever really wasted. All those insigificant things in my life, when I think about it long enough, sort of had to happen. They were small pieces of life that made me who I am today. Who cares if most of them were terrible? The result is good, I do like who I am becoming.
In order to have change, action must be taken. It's my goal to try and remember it. Less crying, more trying. And even if its a bad day, even if things get chaotic again.
There's always tomorrow.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Paralysis
Paralysis
wrapped all around me
can't move forward
wont move back
i stay still
and let fear take me nowhere
-me
I am absolutely sick and tired of myself. What am I waiting for? What is this deep rooted insecurity? This never ending procrastination? Why is it that I am so hesitant to do all of the things that I want to do?
Is it really something as simple as a habit? Have I grown so comfortable with living in this dark and lonely place for such a long time that now i'm afraid to be happy, to actually feel things, to truly live life to its fullest?
I let myself miss out on so much, and I can't understand why. I hold myself back when all I really want to do is move forward.
I look back to when I was much younger, when I was innocent. Before I came to the realization of how abnormal my life was, before I had to come to terms with myself, and I see a completely different person. A better person. Remnants of a person with a very strong will power, someone ready to feel any and everything that life had to give, someone who craved knowledge and wanted to learn about everything, a kid who wanted to save everyone who needed help. Where did that person disappear to? What happend to me? Was it life? Was it my own choices? Why is it that the person who i'm striving to be is a person who I once was? Did I feel happy back then? Was it ignorance? Was it because I hadn't experienced all of the different kinds of drugs yet?
Yes, i've had a shitty beginning. But I never use that as a reason. I know it's just an opportunity to end up as a better person. That's not what is keeping me where I am.
It's fear. I think i've become afraid of pain. I don't want to try because I don't want to fail. I don't want to let people in because I dont' want to end up hurt. I'm tired of feeling sad. I'm tired of feeling pain. I'm tired of feeling empty. As if i'm nothing more than a pathetic shell of my former self.
I have nothing.
Nothing at all to be happy for.
No relationship. Not family.
Nothing. No one.
I love solitude. It has taught me a lot. But I don't care all that much about myself. Which is why everything I do lacks real emotion behind it.
Everything is so empty.
I guess all I can do is fake it 'till I make it.
wrapped all around me
can't move forward
wont move back
i stay still
and let fear take me nowhere
-me
I am absolutely sick and tired of myself. What am I waiting for? What is this deep rooted insecurity? This never ending procrastination? Why is it that I am so hesitant to do all of the things that I want to do?
Is it really something as simple as a habit? Have I grown so comfortable with living in this dark and lonely place for such a long time that now i'm afraid to be happy, to actually feel things, to truly live life to its fullest?
I let myself miss out on so much, and I can't understand why. I hold myself back when all I really want to do is move forward.
I look back to when I was much younger, when I was innocent. Before I came to the realization of how abnormal my life was, before I had to come to terms with myself, and I see a completely different person. A better person. Remnants of a person with a very strong will power, someone ready to feel any and everything that life had to give, someone who craved knowledge and wanted to learn about everything, a kid who wanted to save everyone who needed help. Where did that person disappear to? What happend to me? Was it life? Was it my own choices? Why is it that the person who i'm striving to be is a person who I once was? Did I feel happy back then? Was it ignorance? Was it because I hadn't experienced all of the different kinds of drugs yet?
Yes, i've had a shitty beginning. But I never use that as a reason. I know it's just an opportunity to end up as a better person. That's not what is keeping me where I am.
It's fear. I think i've become afraid of pain. I don't want to try because I don't want to fail. I don't want to let people in because I dont' want to end up hurt. I'm tired of feeling sad. I'm tired of feeling pain. I'm tired of feeling empty. As if i'm nothing more than a pathetic shell of my former self.
I have nothing.
Nothing at all to be happy for.
No relationship. Not family.
Nothing. No one.
I love solitude. It has taught me a lot. But I don't care all that much about myself. Which is why everything I do lacks real emotion behind it.
Everything is so empty.
I guess all I can do is fake it 'till I make it.
Friday, November 13, 2009
I prefer dreams over reality
Sleeping has to be one of the greatest things life has to offer. People always used to tell me that I feel depressed because I sleep to much, but I always thought I was depressed because I did not sleep enough. 8-12 hours is normal for someone my age, right? I'd be happy if I were in a coma for a few months. Do you dream when you're in a coma?
I have a recurring dream. I don't remember when it first started, I just know it happens often, probably more than I think given the fact that I can't remember most of my dreams.
It starts off with me yelling at my little sister. I always imagine her in this situation where she ends up choosing to do drugs, like the rest of my family. I always get so upset and try to take her with me, to save her, but she never comes. Then I end up running. And I run forever, I jump over fences, I run past houses, I try to fly away but I only get so high in the sky before I fall back to the ground. The sensation I feel as I run is indescribable, but I can tell you it hurts. Not like a physical pain, but a very uncomfortable feeling. The dream always ends with me right back where I started, staring at my sister as she is about to make the wrong choice.
I don't know anything about dream interpretation, but I can guess what this means. My little sister started out so innocent, and I talked to her about everything. I tried to help her and give her advice because she was just as confused as I was because of the people that we were forced to grow up with. But in the end she made up her own mind. Life happend to her, and now she's heading down a dangerous path. I can do nothing but watch, because now she doesn't even want to listen. She just wants to get fucked up all the time.
My little sister actually isn't my real sister at all. I consider her as my sister, because i've known her all my life and she's the only person in my family whom i've felt any kind of closeness with. She is my mothers girlfriends daughter. My older sister is my real sister, but we don't talk. I could never get close to her growing up because I could never understand how she could be so cruel to everyone around her, so I always shut her out. Even today I wont let her get close to me.
It's kind of ironic, the dream is like a metaphor from my unconcious mind telling me "YOU FAILED. YOU COULD NOT SAVE ANYONE. NOT EVEN YOURSELF." I know that I could've tried harder or set a better example when I was younger, but life happend to me also.
I want to fall asleep and dream again.
Maybe next time i'll get the hang of it, and fly far far away.
I have a recurring dream. I don't remember when it first started, I just know it happens often, probably more than I think given the fact that I can't remember most of my dreams.
It starts off with me yelling at my little sister. I always imagine her in this situation where she ends up choosing to do drugs, like the rest of my family. I always get so upset and try to take her with me, to save her, but she never comes. Then I end up running. And I run forever, I jump over fences, I run past houses, I try to fly away but I only get so high in the sky before I fall back to the ground. The sensation I feel as I run is indescribable, but I can tell you it hurts. Not like a physical pain, but a very uncomfortable feeling. The dream always ends with me right back where I started, staring at my sister as she is about to make the wrong choice.
I don't know anything about dream interpretation, but I can guess what this means. My little sister started out so innocent, and I talked to her about everything. I tried to help her and give her advice because she was just as confused as I was because of the people that we were forced to grow up with. But in the end she made up her own mind. Life happend to her, and now she's heading down a dangerous path. I can do nothing but watch, because now she doesn't even want to listen. She just wants to get fucked up all the time.
My little sister actually isn't my real sister at all. I consider her as my sister, because i've known her all my life and she's the only person in my family whom i've felt any kind of closeness with. She is my mothers girlfriends daughter. My older sister is my real sister, but we don't talk. I could never get close to her growing up because I could never understand how she could be so cruel to everyone around her, so I always shut her out. Even today I wont let her get close to me.
It's kind of ironic, the dream is like a metaphor from my unconcious mind telling me "YOU FAILED. YOU COULD NOT SAVE ANYONE. NOT EVEN YOURSELF." I know that I could've tried harder or set a better example when I was younger, but life happend to me also.
I want to fall asleep and dream again.
Maybe next time i'll get the hang of it, and fly far far away.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
A small step away from solitude.
"The dark is generous.
Its first gift is concealment: our true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others.
The dark protects us from what we dare not know.
Its second gift is comforting illusion: the ease of gentle dreams in night's embrace, the beauty that imagination brings to what would repel in day's harsh light. But the greatest of its comforts is the illusion that the dark is temporary: that every night brings a new day. Because it is day that is temporary.
Day is the illusion.
Its third gift is the light itself: as days are defined by the nights that divide them, as stars are defined by the infinite black through which they wheel, the dark embraces the light, and brings it forth from the center of its own self.
With each victory of the light, it is the dark that wins."
When I was younger I was ready for anything. I craved every experience, all the bad and the good. I found people completely fascinating to the core. I wanted to discover the truth about everything, and unfortunately I ended up getting my wish.
When I was younger it was so much easier. I had very little experience in life and with people themselves. It may have been bad luck, but growing up I was surrounded by horrible people. My famlily and "friends". I know most people would like to believe that everyone deep down is good, that they have good intentions and want to help others, that they make mistakes and are naturally kind. I know I did. But the truth is that not everyone is like this. From my point of view and experience in life most people deep inside are bad. That's it, there is no reason or explanation to it, they are just bad. and they want to spread it. They don't want to be the only ones. They want everyone to feel what they feel.
After living in so much pain, a person can lose themselves. Completely lose their goal and perspective. You can forget who you are. That's what happened to me, I tried to wrap my mind around the impossible. I tried to give meaning to things that were pointless. I dove into the darkness thinking I could handle it. I couldn't. I lost myself in the process. I let pain get the best of me, I became weak. I retreated into myself, and learned about every aspect of who I am. It's not that this was a bad thing, it's just that I was alone.
And now I keep everyone out. Because I know better. Because all you'll end up with is pain if you give people a chance. What a cowardly and selfish way of thinking... to just not want to feel hurt anymore.
I met someone amazing. I know better to write about this, to write about a person without really knowing who they are. But it's not about them, it's about how they make me feel. I don't know much of anything about her, nothing about her life, nothing about anything. But I get this feeling that she knows. She knows what I know. She has that thing.. that thing that few people have. That ability to be a real person. Someone who reads in between the lines, someone who is looking for truth as well. And it makes me want to step out of my shell and give people a chance.
Maybe not everyone is so shitty.
What good is the gift of life unless you actually live it? Everyone trys to avoid all the negative feelings without realizing that you learn from them the most. All the good, all the bad, every feeling is worth it. To feel is to be alive. Today i've decided to take a step away from what i've grown comfortable with. Solitude. It's safe, it's comfortable, you can never get hurt if you are alone. But that's not what life is about. The sense of touch.. the physical and emotional feelings you get from other people, that is life. that is living. hurt me, before it's over and i can't be hurt anymore.
Its first gift is concealment: our true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others.
The dark protects us from what we dare not know.
Its second gift is comforting illusion: the ease of gentle dreams in night's embrace, the beauty that imagination brings to what would repel in day's harsh light. But the greatest of its comforts is the illusion that the dark is temporary: that every night brings a new day. Because it is day that is temporary.
Day is the illusion.
Its third gift is the light itself: as days are defined by the nights that divide them, as stars are defined by the infinite black through which they wheel, the dark embraces the light, and brings it forth from the center of its own self.
With each victory of the light, it is the dark that wins."
When I was younger I was ready for anything. I craved every experience, all the bad and the good. I found people completely fascinating to the core. I wanted to discover the truth about everything, and unfortunately I ended up getting my wish.
When I was younger it was so much easier. I had very little experience in life and with people themselves. It may have been bad luck, but growing up I was surrounded by horrible people. My famlily and "friends". I know most people would like to believe that everyone deep down is good, that they have good intentions and want to help others, that they make mistakes and are naturally kind. I know I did. But the truth is that not everyone is like this. From my point of view and experience in life most people deep inside are bad. That's it, there is no reason or explanation to it, they are just bad. and they want to spread it. They don't want to be the only ones. They want everyone to feel what they feel.
After living in so much pain, a person can lose themselves. Completely lose their goal and perspective. You can forget who you are. That's what happened to me, I tried to wrap my mind around the impossible. I tried to give meaning to things that were pointless. I dove into the darkness thinking I could handle it. I couldn't. I lost myself in the process. I let pain get the best of me, I became weak. I retreated into myself, and learned about every aspect of who I am. It's not that this was a bad thing, it's just that I was alone.
And now I keep everyone out. Because I know better. Because all you'll end up with is pain if you give people a chance. What a cowardly and selfish way of thinking... to just not want to feel hurt anymore.
I met someone amazing. I know better to write about this, to write about a person without really knowing who they are. But it's not about them, it's about how they make me feel. I don't know much of anything about her, nothing about her life, nothing about anything. But I get this feeling that she knows. She knows what I know. She has that thing.. that thing that few people have. That ability to be a real person. Someone who reads in between the lines, someone who is looking for truth as well. And it makes me want to step out of my shell and give people a chance.
Maybe not everyone is so shitty.
What good is the gift of life unless you actually live it? Everyone trys to avoid all the negative feelings without realizing that you learn from them the most. All the good, all the bad, every feeling is worth it. To feel is to be alive. Today i've decided to take a step away from what i've grown comfortable with. Solitude. It's safe, it's comfortable, you can never get hurt if you are alone. But that's not what life is about. The sense of touch.. the physical and emotional feelings you get from other people, that is life. that is living. hurt me, before it's over and i can't be hurt anymore.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
