I enjoy big words.

I’ve always had to be the one

to say what everyone else

thought,

but were to scared

to put into words.

I’m caught between a rock and hard place.

I’ve gone months stuck in a vicious cycle of want, disappointment, and choice. The thin line drawn between desire and moral has withered away, and fear disappeared with them. With all the changes I’m being exposed to, it’s not wrong to stop short in confusion.

I have always known that I’ve lived on a different wavelength than everybody else. Everything has been so complicated. And when presented with a new environment, death, deception, and way too many decisions, what it the logical way to go about it? I’ve never expected any conflict I’ve had to handle in this time frame to be so extraordinarily out of this world until they all hit me like a ton of bricks.

The important thing is to stay grounded. My biggest mistakes have been getting too far ahead of myself, and taking what I had for granted. I have learned that as soon as something incredible can come, it can go, too. I’m not sure what’s more difficult, getting your wildest dreams taken away from you, or seeing them in the hands of someone else. You look away for but a second, but that’s all it takes.

I got absolutely everything I wanted. Right down to the last detail. But none of that seems to be important anymore, there’s still missing pieces. I’ve never felt so happy I had to cry before now, as compared to the raw sadness of then. Someone else ago wasn’t my finest hour, but yesterday is in the past.

Houses don’t make people happy. People don’t make people happy. We create our own happiness, in whichever ways we choose to do so. Forevermore shall we remember that we hold our own trusts and desires in our fingertips. It happens, some people just haven’t gotten there yet.

Tagged: life

When you get a facial piercing, or pretty much any piercing besides the basic earlobes, the body’s natural instinct is to close up the newly created hole. If you remove the actual stud itself, the hole closes up. It’s just the body’s way of fixing itself.

Those were the words I heard when I fell out of a tree when I was seven. My arm bore a large scratch, and while I cried and sniffled about it as any child would, my nurse of an aunt provided some comfort, in the form of logic. She told me that the bleeding would stop and the scratch would heal. I thought it was magic, but it was just my body repairing itself.

I suppose that theory isn’t only true with our physical state, but emotional as well. We as humans play roles that even the most skilled of actors could not achieve. We wake up each morning to survive, and fall asleep at night only for the day ahead to come. Not one of us asked for this; it was out of our hands. But, regardless, that is what each and every one of us does: survive.

We open ourselves up to two worlds, just by rising out of bed in the morning. We function to function, as poorly written as it is. We live to live; we all go on with our realities in hopes of reaching our dreams. This can bring us to wonder and bliss, or angst and loathe. Maybe neither, maybe both. With the ups come the downs, and there comes the hurt.

No matter how many times we injure ourselves, we recover. We pull through. It’s just what we were made to do. Maybe a year isn’t a very long time, maybe the scratch really wasn’t that big. We all fix ourselves in the end.