I hadn't realised 3 months had passed and not a single update to be present.
I guess time flies... usually when you're having fun, Though these last few months have made me realise, yet again, who's there is not the same as who's there for you.
Nothing but arrests, charges and break ups.
The soul I considered to be one of my favourites, like a demonic, drug - user stole from me. My dead grandmothers watch along with a few other sentimental items. Making me believe, just the night before that our friendship is unbreakable.
What I learnt is, I'd rather do things on my own than be surrounded by people who wish to torment me.
After all the years of traumatic, ideologies that I deserve nothing more than what I have seen, I want to change my perspective. Of the world, of myself.
Reminding myself of the goals I once wished I could achieve such as; travelling, learning, reading, writing and most importantly speaking.
I wasn't supposed to sit in silence when these walls came tumbling down.
Like a herd of sheep, stranded, frantic in a confined space. The urges to escape the pressure of those I surround myself with.
Having a story, is having power.
Being human means people will try and determine who and when that power can be excelled.
Though I must remember how hollow and down I had felt just a few months ago and how I had taught myself countless times to continue even though some times I am unsure of why I should anymore.
As for the love I am about to lose touch of completely.. A wave of emotions nearly paralysing me today, taking me back to a time not so long ago where I had felt helpless.
Like, I could change: be the famous writer I know I will be, or lose sight of who I am, and this one person who promised to love me despite of my past, won't. Or can't.
After a long line of people, not just men, I'm questioning how loved one damaged person can be.
Yes, young at age and questioning these things but realistically, my eyes are more open than ever.
We are born and die alone, some are luckier enough than others to spend it closely with those who created them. Those who make them.
Unfortunately some of us aren't so lucky.
Working 25+ hours a week, booking people in for financial seminars and then soon to be returning to university for my third semester. What a chaotic year already.
Within 2 months time I will be resting in my new home: alone or with a guest. What ever path God directs me to go. I'm just waiting for a sign. Something, anything. That I'm not so terrible after all, and I am in fact, still on track to the place I am meant to be.
I guess time flies... usually when you're having fun, Though these last few months have made me realise, yet again, who's there is not the same as who's there for you.
Nothing but arrests, charges and break ups.
The soul I considered to be one of my favourites, like a demonic, drug - user stole from me. My dead grandmothers watch along with a few other sentimental items. Making me believe, just the night before that our friendship is unbreakable.
What I learnt is, I'd rather do things on my own than be surrounded by people who wish to torment me.
After all the years of traumatic, ideologies that I deserve nothing more than what I have seen, I want to change my perspective. Of the world, of myself.
Reminding myself of the goals I once wished I could achieve such as; travelling, learning, reading, writing and most importantly speaking.
I wasn't supposed to sit in silence when these walls came tumbling down.
Like a herd of sheep, stranded, frantic in a confined space. The urges to escape the pressure of those I surround myself with.
Having a story, is having power.
Being human means people will try and determine who and when that power can be excelled.
Though I must remember how hollow and down I had felt just a few months ago and how I had taught myself countless times to continue even though some times I am unsure of why I should anymore.
As for the love I am about to lose touch of completely.. A wave of emotions nearly paralysing me today, taking me back to a time not so long ago where I had felt helpless.
Like, I could change: be the famous writer I know I will be, or lose sight of who I am, and this one person who promised to love me despite of my past, won't. Or can't.
After a long line of people, not just men, I'm questioning how loved one damaged person can be.
Yes, young at age and questioning these things but realistically, my eyes are more open than ever.
We are born and die alone, some are luckier enough than others to spend it closely with those who created them. Those who make them.
Unfortunately some of us aren't so lucky.
Working 25+ hours a week, booking people in for financial seminars and then soon to be returning to university for my third semester. What a chaotic year already.
Within 2 months time I will be resting in my new home: alone or with a guest. What ever path God directs me to go. I'm just waiting for a sign. Something, anything. That I'm not so terrible after all, and I am in fact, still on track to the place I am meant to be.
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