(no subject)
When you open your eyes
To dream is to realize that there are things that you want but cannot have.
To cry is to know that life is not as it should be.
I slowly start to fall to my knees; with my head in my hands.
I cry for you to pick me up.
Every time I look in the mirror, I see a ghostly reflection of the person that I used to be.
It shatters and I find myself in pieces.
I was browsing through the LiveJournal recent updates again and saw that as somebody’s post. So, I admit it, I stole it. But it really is beautiful the way its worded-makes you think, you know? And it happened to tie in with what I was going to write about but was unsure how to open up to it. I feel different. Looking back over the past chunk of my life, it’s becoming clearer and clearer how much I’ve grown up. I have grown up, a lot. A lot of big events have happened in my life in it, and each one has attributed to a different piece that has been transformed. Its mind boggling to think that all of this was meant to happen. It feels good to be molded into such an intricate being and to be able to see it coming along. But this being a personal journey and all, I fear being disconnected. I don’t feel as close to those that I once was and seem to be spiraling back into the dependability of myself and myself alone. For a good two years I was very dependable on people for my emotional stability and well-being. Because of that, I got very close/attached. And now that that dependability has worn off, I have, unconsciously but nevertheless, separated myself. This sounds bad, but honestly, I can go several days, even weeks, without conversation now and have it not even phase me. It bothers me, but at the same time it really doesn’t... When I commit the time to think about it, it makes me sad. Someone who was so much to me, really isn’t anymore. As is one of Adams personal philosophies, people come into lives to serve a purpose. When that purpose is served, they go out. There isn’t anything that can be done about it, that’s just how life is. I hate to think that the purpose has already been served... But if it is, at this point, I think I’d be ok with it. I’m happy with my life, and I feel good about it-even with everything previously stated. But try as I might, beauty can’t help but escape...
To dream is to realize that there are things that you want but cannot have.
To cry is to know that life is not as it should be.
I slowly start to fall to my knees; with my head in my hands.
I cry for you to pick me up.
Every time I look in the mirror, I see a ghostly reflection of the person that I used to be.
It shatters and I find myself in pieces.
I was browsing through the LiveJournal recent updates again and saw that as somebody’s post. So, I admit it, I stole it. But it really is beautiful the way its worded-makes you think, you know? And it happened to tie in with what I was going to write about but was unsure how to open up to it. I feel different. Looking back over the past chunk of my life, it’s becoming clearer and clearer how much I’ve grown up. I have grown up, a lot. A lot of big events have happened in my life in it, and each one has attributed to a different piece that has been transformed. Its mind boggling to think that all of this was meant to happen. It feels good to be molded into such an intricate being and to be able to see it coming along. But this being a personal journey and all, I fear being disconnected. I don’t feel as close to those that I once was and seem to be spiraling back into the dependability of myself and myself alone. For a good two years I was very dependable on people for my emotional stability and well-being. Because of that, I got very close/attached. And now that that dependability has worn off, I have, unconsciously but nevertheless, separated myself. This sounds bad, but honestly, I can go several days, even weeks, without conversation now and have it not even phase me. It bothers me, but at the same time it really doesn’t... When I commit the time to think about it, it makes me sad. Someone who was so much to me, really isn’t anymore. As is one of Adams personal philosophies, people come into lives to serve a purpose. When that purpose is served, they go out. There isn’t anything that can be done about it, that’s just how life is. I hate to think that the purpose has already been served... But if it is, at this point, I think I’d be ok with it. I’m happy with my life, and I feel good about it-even with everything previously stated. But try as I might, beauty can’t help but escape...