I am positive that everything happens for a reason. The reason will not always be apparent. It will not always be weighed down so heavily that we instantly grasp its magnamity. I do not believe that these things negate a happening’s purpose.
You ate what you ate for a reason. It was all that was available. It was what you felt would soothe your hunger. It was closest. There was a reason.
The people we meet and continue to learn and engage and befriend are in our live for a reason. These people maybe temporary or permanent. They may be positive or negative. But, they exist, not solely but simultaneously, to bring a new level of clarity or in some cases distortion to our lives.
Distortion isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes when we think we have the world figured out, distortion provides the necessary obligation of applying the effort to see clearly. In doing so, we almost often see those specks that we had previously overlooked (willingly or otherwise).
People confuse me. Ironic since I’m so intuitive but I know that it’s something I allow. I am still human after all and I often have my set of wants that I allow to trump the clear and present intentions these people present. I look at people entering my life as an opportunity to be the best whatever that person needs. I used to try to do this for everyone. Now I am careful about doing this only for people who I intend to keep around.
I think I’m rambling.
In fact, I know I am. I am trying to type out a sadness I feel. But the sadness is not in my fingertips. It’s hiding. I don’t know why it hides. I don’t where it’s coming from. I wish I did. It’s making me lazy. I don’t have time to do the sort of stagnant thinking I keep finding myself doing lately.
I wrote this poem about casual sex. I was going to post it but I think you’ll have to buy the book for this one.
I used to be really ashamed of my scars. Now, I’m happy to have survived long enough to heal.
She talks in her sleep. Full on conversations that never involve me.
My teeth hurt.
I often wonder does that make me selfish? Because I listen for my name? Because I listen to be mentioned? Because I’m human and I’m surrounded by people who I want to be eveything to and secretly fear I am nothing.
I often wonder if we ever get over our fears… Or do we supress them so deep that normal has no place to go but to the surface?
I often ask myself if it is better to be loved unconditionally and misunderstood or completely understood and tolerated?
We humans are so complex.
So in need of these emotions that drive us mad. So in need of each other that we push one another away. So in need of our things that we sacrifice ourselves to have them.
I’m not over something I keep saying I’m over.
I’m rambling again.
Today I stood in front of a mirror, completely exposed, and took a chance on a chance. I had no clue what the mirror would see. No clue what the mirror would reflect. No clue whether the mirror would crack. Just an image in the eyes of a 5’1 frame that pierced through me. Or not.
I am so interested in everyone else’s story… Maybe it’s just my ploy to see who’s really interested in me. Guess we’ll never know.
Seriously, big tooth, bottom row. 3rd from wisdom. Hurts.
Take deep breaths. Take. Deep. Breaths.
I wish I could cry. It’d help right now.
I wonder does anyone know me the way that I know them? Other than D.
I would have thrown caution to the wind but the wind never blew.
I like the first Matrix film the best. Of all the metaphors it was the love story that touched me most. In order for him to become who he was meant to be he had to have someone to save him. Trinity saved Neo. One whisper of pure honesty released the digital Jesus Christ. Blasphemous, I know. But nonetheless true given the story. He could not have been The One without her whisper. The right thing never has to be said loudly, just said, period.
How do we really ever know when it’s love? And why do we waste so much time trying to convince ourselves that it is anything but….
Why do we tell ourselves it’s foolish to love? It’s weak? Loving someone is the bravest thing we could ever do. Yet, we bemoan its necessity and foster any ill-formed mindset that rejects it.
I’m never really sad but kinda always. Sad, really.
It’s like everytime I look into those eyes, I feel the need to apologize for the intrusion.
Sometimes I complain about shit that I already have. So I guess, really, I’m complaining about not having it the way I imagined.
I can be a real voyeur sometimes. But I like to witness people’s uninhibited thoughts and actions. Not that bubblegum ish they put out when they think someone is looking. Especially when those thoughts pertain to me.
So, ok…I’m selfish. Now what?
I’m still rambling. Maybe. See line 1.