Constantly, I live my life’s mistakes over, and I wonder when will it ever end.  And then I add to those mistakes so what was once a solo mistep has now defined me.   Perhaps it is best I am alone, you only need one person to beat up on you, and I think I am doing a great job at that.  My life a cliche?  It will be until I either change my actions or become someone new.  But where does one begin?  Where do I say that ok I have hit rock bottom, and now I can being again?  And then there is the nagging perception that others wont let go of my past, they cant see me who I am now, and then I falter.  But I do make mistakes, and I admit them, in a way thats all I can do is admit them, and somehow that has become a weakness, another reason to be defined.  So I am thinking that perhaps, I just let time ride me out for a while, let others feel as they do, and I contrinue to be who I am. 

But then thats always the question, isnt it? Who am I?  Friend? Boyfriend? Son? Failure?  Faker? Disturbed?  Or am I am collection of all those parts to become a hole or a whole? In these times, all I have these words, because thats I can manage to spill out.  My feelings are another matter.  They are now a blackhole of emptiness, and pain.  Its better that I pretend that I dont exist then to dwell on them  But they are around the corner, always peeking at me.  I hurt and I hurt others close to me, and then I have this “what me?” attitude.  Just feel alone, and perhaps that is best because I cant seem to make anyone happy lately. 

Alone.  It defines me. 

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