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.