I don’t have many convictions. I don’t truly believe in a lot if things. And, a lot of the things I used to believe in, are not things I believe in now. My general lack of faith or whatever, honestly scares me. I scare myself. I always ask myself, “what is something you’d never do?” And there aren’t too many things that come to mind. I’d never sell sex for money. Id never do heroin or any of those kinds of drugs, but I think id do many more things than a lot of my peers, and it makes me question my character and moral fiber. I GUESS I’m a good person, but by whose standard? I guess my own is the only one that actually matters.
I anxiously listen to the rings, pounding in my ear drums. I want nothing more than the sweet simplicity of your voice. The sounds continue, but that wave of relief and happiness doesn’t come. My finger hovers over the “End Call” button, awaiting disappointment, yet again. The feminine drone I’ve heard so many times now answers my call. I linger still with the false hope that some how your voice can get through, but it doesn’t. My finger touches that bit of red, ending this round. Rejection fills my brain, and I await a call from you that still hasn’t been returned. Until next time, my love.
Basically, I want to have my cake and eat it too. I want a significant other to stay in my life, and I want a comfortable future.. Having either one of these means I can’t have the other, and it’s slowly tearing me in two. And now, as time wears on, I’m becoming more convinced that while I’m suffering a downward spiral, he’s only coming out of his depression. This situation has been taunting us since the beginning of our relationship, and now the time to leave is looming nearer and nearer and he’s assuring me he’ll be ok, while I only want him to tell me that he wants me as much as I want him. So, if he’ll be so “ok,” shouldn’t I get over myself, stop wallowing in self pity, and get over him? How? How can I stop loving someone? Does that happen? Ever?
Lonely on a barren landscape he stands:
withered, weathered, waned.
His branches stretch towards divinity; the effort is futile-
rejected, reserved, irrational.
His exterior is unpleasant to the touch-
thick, tough, thorny.
Lonely he remains, who knows what lies inside?
cunning, crafty, condescending.
He is dark and mangled; hard on the eyes:
turned, twisted, tangled.
If I could drill eyes into his soul,
what demons will lie in wait there?
empty, hollow, dead.
“If you stand for nothing, you’ll fall for anything.”
Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet.Only through the experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.