I hang on to things that I ought to let go of. I let go of things that I ought to keep. The 'letting go' bit is not such a problem. If things are really meant to be for me, they'll come back to me. It's the 'hanging on' bit that I need to be wary of. I must be especially wary of clinging too tightly to anger. Resentment. Suspicion. Disappointment. Lust.  I shouldn't ask now whether someone deserves to be forgiven, ask whether I deserve the pain of keeping a bad feeling alive. I admit I'm too quick to assume to accept unwelcome impositions. I figure that the more I object, the more painful it is all going to be. I start suffering in silence before I even take time to reflect on whether I actually have to start suffering at all. I don't have to suffer. My life is what I make it. I have my ups and downs, as far as myself...but I'm on track to growing up. Seeing what truly matters. Right? SO why the fuck am i so fucked up? why the actual fuck can't I be the brilliant person i'm suppose to be? Being content? It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering. We spend most of our lives conjugating three verbs: to want, to have, and to do. It’s so easy to say I want to change, but so difficult to actually do something about it,. I’m caught in the middle of everything and I can’t ever seem to find my way. I realize so much more each day, I don’t know what to do with it all. I'm the only one to blame. it will always be me. Nothing is permanent. even life. it is all so fleeting. yet knowing this doesn't stop me from being so wrapped up in the trivial things that seem to surround me. my heart is so shut off I'm not even sure if it still beats. or maybe I've silenced the sound to avoid hearing it's unrhythmic pounding. I don't want to feel anymore. Too tired. the sun doesn't shine here anymore. it's lost it's way. all I have to guide me now is the moon. but it's about as reliable as the people in my life. I don't want to feel, I don't want to feel. maybe soon I won't. color me committed.