Thermonuclear War
The past week or so has been somewhat interesting (as in not that boring). I drank for the first time Friday night, while parents were gone to a hotel. It was ok, my limit was 4 1/2 bottles of smirnoff (yes the bitch drink). I threw up a lot; haven't since I was 4 and sick. It's not what I thought it was made out to be, but things never are. I found that maybe I was alluding myself into something that I'm not capable of. I don't know what it is right now, but I believe that I have a static destiny. I won't tolerate my life being consistent with misery and the torment of a illusion that I've once blinded myself with. I'm driven constantly by an objective - an objective that I'll continue to thrive towards until my end. Focus, dedication, self-discipline. A goal that I'll leave an impression, an accomplishment with my life. I cannot bare the thought that I won't be able to leave something behind. Although, I'd have to admit that I sometimes envy the oblivious, because, unlike the oblivious, I'd consume the bitter fruit from the Tree of Knowledge to know the truth rather than be happy (why? because that's how fucked I am maybe?). I don't think my chances of taking the "happy drug" have accumulated, because I've come to realize that love equals one of the two: peace or pain. I choose not to love; and therefore, I can feel no pain. I choose not love; and therefore, I can never have peace. Why would someone choose that? How could one live without something to love.. someone to love? I choose by law of logistics (my gift, my curse). All the moments in glittering darkness will be lost in time... like tears in the rain. I feel nothing; therefore, I am. I know some may pity me. Don't pity me, but yourselves. Have a nice day. Until my next post, Fake it.