Here we are again in this awful stale predicament. If only living was as easy as picking a card from a deck, and then going with it. Apparently it isn’t. How have I reached this point where it doesn’t matter anymore? Where did the inspiration go?
People say you attract your thoughts. It works, both negatively and positively. If you keep telling yourself you don’t want to do something or to become someone, chances are, you are going to be doing that exact thing. How ironic.
I have been in and out of this confusion for so long now that I don’t know what to think anymore. I feel nothing for death and even less for this moment. How horridly emo does that sound.
We are all fucked in our special little ways. Some of us fucked a lot more than others. How we deal with our fuckedness is what defines our character. There will always be reason to cry. There will always be someone to blame. There will always be a shortcut and there will always be reason to pack up and give in.
And at the same time, there is unconditional love. There are friends for you to lean on. There is family to cradle you and there is home. Home. For a few lucky ones, there is home.
Now the cards are face up and the choice is clear. I have all the time in the world. All I need is patience.
So I will wait.
