There are moments when I really wish I was someone else, somewhere else, in some other life. Perhaps a life where I didn't have to consciously drive everything I work so hard and tediously for to the fucking ground. What is it with me and self-ruination? One would think that after so many times of being shot down and trampled over that I would get the message and use it to my own advantage at this point in my life. But this is where it gets mixed up and reasoning can become questionable. I'm not going to lie and say that everything I've seen hasn't left me with an ill-hearted view on everything I come across. It's so difficult to understand that everything can get better for me eventually, and that one day I can really be happy with the one I love and with myself. I've spent so much of my life trying to convince myself that I was happy regardless of the bullshit going on around me, but that was the biggest lie I've ever told anyone, and no one knows that better than I do. Ignoring everything, nothing hurts when you don't give a fucking shit. I let the worst moments of my life come in and right out of me, but I never noticed all the baggage it left behind until now. The truth is I was never okay with being alone or abandoned. But I held my facade together so diligently and meticulously, because I knew better than to expect any compromise from life's rigid trials.

I couldn't wait until it was all over, really. But it never stopped, and my perspective became so skewed. I figured that solitude would always be my friend when times became too hard, and if it came down to it, I could always hold myself, dry my own tears, and cradle my qualms by my lonesome just fine. I could take on anything with a smug grin if I really wanted to play the role of a senselessly stoic asshole. For years I played my cards right, and the moment that I let my guard down for the slightest bit of attention, I fell so fast that I lost my budding sense of hope. I was left with nothing but the brutal reality of defilement and an overwhelming need that I could never satisfy alone. I tried living mindlessly after burying the need in the deepest corner of my mind.

i'll finish this when i wake up from myself.

[11:49 P.M.]
there, there.

I resolved to tear myself to pieces so that I may find the lucid parts of me that have never felt the pains of desolation. And these parts I swear to dedicate entirely to the delicate arrival of your breath and the growing yearn of your embrace. There's no other way I'd rather be.

I might have had my hopes tampered with in the past and nothing's been all that easy, to say the least, but this didn't constitute who I was going to be forever. I was so terribly sad at one point and pissed off with everything and everyone in my life that it got ridiculous. I was sinking into something I didn't completely understand at the time, and I really ruined a lot for myself. I guess it's safe to say I felt cheated by life on the highest level. Misfortune left my eager will bitter with contempt, it's true.

And then it happened.

I woke up one day, I can hardly go back to the memory now that I'm trying, and I just knew it wasn't fucking worth the trouble. I wasn't going to get shit from being pissed off and upset at the fucking world, all I was going to manage by doing that was cause more problems for myself. It's hard to believe how one could change so steadily and strangely over the course of a few days. Within days, I had began to feel happier than I had the past three years since then. A lot of things went into changing the way I saw things during those days, and I suppose it was all about the will power I had to really fucking convince myself of what I wanted. Self assurance was what I needed and I was finally beginning to learn how to give it to myself.