Viewing ones past is always an emotional action. I have chosen to write my story in hopes that it may someday help others that struggle with similar dilemmas. Yet every time I feel as though my life has reached the end of my story, I find it is not so. There is always something that goes wrong. My 'ends' seem to always become beginnings. Rightly so ( Read more... )

My life is panning out, my plans are coming true, I no longer feel like a stranger here, and yet I feel more lost than ever. My mind is more unstable than before, and the more people I meet, the more lonely I feel. This is not my life until the final piece is in place. I need you here.

There's a sheet between us ( Read more... )

My days are waning. I feel so in between two worlds; when I look backwards, and when I look forward both are unfocused and blurry. All I can seem to do is stare at my feet and hope that the wind carries me to me destination. There are so many things that I took for granted; the comfort of home, the handful of friends, the same roads I've been ( Read more... )

This is an interesting feeling, coming back to this after so long. But as my introspection waxes, I feel the need for extra outlets ( Read more... )

Sometimes I wonder why things always get worse before they get better; and why the shitty things always happen all at once. I know many people that have had and do have far worse lots in life than myself. I've been traumatized by my childhood, but no more than everyone else, I think. I've spent a good number of my years feeling hopeless and alone, ( Read more... )

I am not, as they say, insane. Not within the realm of the oh-so-delicate framework of this society. I function, I speak, I think. And yet, as time moves forward I find my own thoughts gently mimicking the framework of this society, becoming, namely, delicate. And it is not so much that my mind is so torn, or else worn down; it is not so much that ( Read more... )

I had a revelation last night. As I was trying to get to sleep I began to think about my grandparents. It was one of those realizations of mortality. Not for myself, at first, but for those that I love. And for those, like my grandparents, whose time may be limited now. I thought of how they do not really know me, and I wondered if they minded. I ( Read more... )

I can feel my life building up to something. At this very moment I can sense the world straining in anticipation. It's been building for a while, yet I still don't know what it's for. Though I can tell it will be something dramatic. The mixture of fear and excitement has driven away my emotional composure and has left me vulnerable to breakdowns. I ( Read more... )

If nothing else within this life ( Read more... )