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 Latest
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Diaryland |
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2003-09-03 - 12:56 a.m. Of the things I truly love, I speak the least about them. I've developed into a certain patience and understanding of myself and peers and realize I've reached a point in which my initial excitements, triggered by my own innocence to culture and my mind's own understanding developed me into a humble and yet more positive perspective. My lens of life has widened so far out in the last few years that it's quite hard to see anything behind the massive wave of thoughts, experiences, hardships, and turmoil i've endured from the beginning of my adolescence. I've awakened from my haze of life and have finally begun to dream. I've found, cultivated, lost, and ultimately found again what I believe as simply, "Love." I've developed friendships with people I have no hesitation calling them my brothers and sisters. I've reached probably the lowest point of my short life and was 3 steps away from my own oblivion. All this shit, getting all introspective, seeing people and things and experiences in other people that I've already absorbed tightly in my memories, has driven me to points of hell and clouds of heaven. I've spent enough time shaking my fists at god. I'm tired of this anger I feel. This guilt in which I have to hide my own weaknesses. I used to see things as fights. We're always fighting for something and never ourselves. We become vessels of our values, things prefabricated for living leisure and strayed away from purer thought and replaced it with a mini Zen rock garden for our desks. I almost now let it all speak for itself.
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