You know how easy it is to break me.

Inside of this dark, blistering, soul is something not even I can describe. I suppose it may be the same for most people, in the sense that everyone feels that a part of them is indescribable. It's true, I believe, that we are all in a sense "complex". But what is complexity other than a tangled mess of misunderstood emotion? If it is in fact that simple, then in can in fact be untangled, correct? Especially considering how fickle and petty emotions are.

Anyways, back to earth.
My life is back to the way it was before I had a spell of naivete (as in, before Aaron), but it's not all bad. I mean, what is "bad" anyways? It's not negative or positive, I'm just in a sort of limbo...which I'm starting to realize I never left. I am so frustrated for so many reasons, but no good ones. I mean, I was happy for 5 minutes, until I realized that blind happiness does not erase the deep rooted issues that I keep trying to avoid dealing with. I will never be able to appreciate anyone or anything until I honestly explore myself. Thankfully, I am worshipful of truth, so I have faith it will prevail.

I want to believe I'm good enough for myself, so I can believe I am more than good enough for everyone else.

Blame.

I will marry the man who recognizes that I am dancing with the devil, and asks "May I cut in?"
I'm not sure if you realize how selfish I am Reader. I have a very thin regard for others feelings. Emotions are petty and inconsequential things. They are another nuisance of humanity, like giving birth and dying. I suppose it wouldn't matter anyway, how selfish I am I mean. In the end, we all admit to our finality and drop to our knees to beg for redemption for ourselves; not one another. If their is a God, to him, we are maggots. Both literally and figuratively. We are maggots that live, breathe, breed and die in our own feces, all the while whining and squirming as if there might be a possible escape. There never was. I will not say that death is a escape, because death is neither positive nor negative. Death begets only itself and it gives no explanation and it receives none. Possibly, it is the only self respecting act we do....but I won't dig in too deep, because like I said, death speaks for silence.

I want a personal glory, the gloating kind.