Modern Love
I don't know what can be said, or how to put in to words the damage I've begun to repair.
I did it so very wrong, and so very right, for a very long time. It's hard to accept that you must allow yourself to be vulnerable sometimes, in order to see where you really stand in your convictions.
It's time to be honest, and it's time to be sincere.
I've never felt the weight of the world more on my shoulders. I'm constantly so at war with the things that I love, that peace seems like a demon.
I can't sit here and force myself to write something deep, or profound, or at this point even usable. I'm just sitting here writing because I know I have a lot to say, I just don't know how I want to say it all. I can't sum up how I'm feeling in a single song, or a poem, or verse.
So where can I start?
I'm learning more about myself by the minute. I feel like I spent the first 25 years of my life just fucking everything up. I can't keep on doing it anymore. I've finally reached a point in my life where I want to undo the damage I've done, and undo the heart I've learned to explore -- at least so I can understand how it can work in other ways. I've missed this journal more than I think I'd care to admit. I used to vent in it every day, sometimes multiple times a day. While I don't think I ever used it to process my day, I used it to empty my thoughts. To spill my heart and brain and guts and blood and tears and ... emotion. Everything. Just all of it, all in here.
I have a hard time being around people that don't dream of something more for themselves. I never had much growing up, and that could be my sob story from here on out, but really the best thing it gave me was the drive to want more for myself. For my soul. I'm here for one life, and I don't want to spend it sitting behind a cubicle, or shoveling gravel at the side of a road. I've been on the path to do so many things, and I chose music because if I was going to be wasting my life away, it wouldn't be at work.
I've chosen a life where I force myself and the people I love around me to eat the scraps of what we can afford, and made us ration our lives out by the day, so we can continue doing something that makes us feel good, a very small portion of the time. Don't tell me I didn't serve my time.
I was never pushed to believe that if I really and truly wanted something -- to take it. No one ever tells you that most of what you want out of life is just beyond your reach, all you have to do is reach for it and lean, and sometimes fall over -- but you'll grab it. Or you fall, and you rise again. But always reach for it.
So this time I'm casting out a bigger net.
I'm starting to believe that I could really be the person I dream to become. What a novel idea.
I did it so very wrong, and so very right, for a very long time. It's hard to accept that you must allow yourself to be vulnerable sometimes, in order to see where you really stand in your convictions.
It's time to be honest, and it's time to be sincere.
I've never felt the weight of the world more on my shoulders. I'm constantly so at war with the things that I love, that peace seems like a demon.
I can't sit here and force myself to write something deep, or profound, or at this point even usable. I'm just sitting here writing because I know I have a lot to say, I just don't know how I want to say it all. I can't sum up how I'm feeling in a single song, or a poem, or verse.
So where can I start?
I'm learning more about myself by the minute. I feel like I spent the first 25 years of my life just fucking everything up. I can't keep on doing it anymore. I've finally reached a point in my life where I want to undo the damage I've done, and undo the heart I've learned to explore -- at least so I can understand how it can work in other ways. I've missed this journal more than I think I'd care to admit. I used to vent in it every day, sometimes multiple times a day. While I don't think I ever used it to process my day, I used it to empty my thoughts. To spill my heart and brain and guts and blood and tears and ... emotion. Everything. Just all of it, all in here.
I have a hard time being around people that don't dream of something more for themselves. I never had much growing up, and that could be my sob story from here on out, but really the best thing it gave me was the drive to want more for myself. For my soul. I'm here for one life, and I don't want to spend it sitting behind a cubicle, or shoveling gravel at the side of a road. I've been on the path to do so many things, and I chose music because if I was going to be wasting my life away, it wouldn't be at work.
I've chosen a life where I force myself and the people I love around me to eat the scraps of what we can afford, and made us ration our lives out by the day, so we can continue doing something that makes us feel good, a very small portion of the time. Don't tell me I didn't serve my time.
I was never pushed to believe that if I really and truly wanted something -- to take it. No one ever tells you that most of what you want out of life is just beyond your reach, all you have to do is reach for it and lean, and sometimes fall over -- but you'll grab it. Or you fall, and you rise again. But always reach for it.
So this time I'm casting out a bigger net.
I'm starting to believe that I could really be the person I dream to become. What a novel idea.