and here I sit...
quiet again in here. It's almost like a secret hiding place to just curl up and pay attention to the silence. A place to be alone, have solitude, peace... i like secret places. I always had one until I moved out here, then i just felt vulnerable all the time. I'm starting to get one back... I guess my live journal is it. Fuck i want peace. just give me peace. silence. solitude. Why is it always so hard to find? Is that something that comes with age? Your loss of freedom and confidence? Lack of self identity? I always felt i was searching for it, and now i feel like i had it and lost it. That search is what really defines who you are. Where you search defines who you are. When you stop searching, that's when you've lost your self worth. The beautiful rock bottom. Oh tyler durden, your philosophy is oh so accurate. This whole cycle of hitting rock bottom to be free, then once you feel free you're no longer on rock bottom. Are we just a living fucking battery that has to go through the life death cycle to keep going? And when is the final death? The final fed up goodbye? I think the smart ones decide. The ones that don't get it when they don't want it. And then why can't we? Why can't we be the deciders of our own fate and death? Why can't we decide when we want to leave? And for those who do, why are they looked down upon? If you don't want to play a game any longer, you just quit playing. Why is life any different? sweet breath of silence, you are so fleeting...