I am sort of tired of my mindset. I’m tired of feeling. I’m tired of this. It’s not of being poor and having no direction, though that sucks and I’m not exactly fond of it.
When I love, it is without reservation. When I love someone, it is with my full heart and it is without exception. I don’t have it in my to continue hating those I feel are sorry for where they have wronged me. It’s not something I know how to put a throttle on; I’ve tried and failed. When I fall for someone, there isn’t a part of me that’s not part of it. When I embrace someone as a true friend or family? I mean it at the core of my being. It’s who I am. It’s what I am.
Because of it, I’m seen as pathetic and desperate.
God, sometimes I wish I had it in me to be the cruelest of cruel bastards. I would rather be jaded. I’d rather be able to show people the coldest, darkest, flintiest part of dried blacked heart….because it sounds a much better run then constantly getting stepped on like a squeaky chew toy. It sounds a lot better then being taken for granted, or to be presumed as some lesser and desperate entity.
Then, something happens that reminds me exactly why I am the way I am. The world is filled with cold, dark, black hearts…and there are few people who can stay open. I’m not going to claim some moral or ethical superiority with this; there are days I would dedicate myself to being an asshole if I could.
Then I remember what it has given me. The friendships. The perspectives. The understanding. The passion. The compassion. The drive myself to push myself to be the better person, even when surrounded by the superficially petty and self-righteous.
Sometimes, we find ourselves in strange and horrid places. It’s times like this where I wouldn’t have it any other way.