Jul. 23rd, 2014

krm: (Damn Them)
 I am weary.  And I have nothing better to say other than that.  

My mom placed an old box on my bed, filled with various possessions of mine that I had forgotten about.  She told me to go through it and whatever was left was to be thrown away.

To my surprise I found quite a collection of old journals I had kept through middle school up until the first two years of high school.  I read through them and have come to a general conclusion.

While my perception of the world and self-awareness has changed (grown, hopefully), at my core, I remain the same.  I am miserable, and often so, and I mostly seek a light to the darkness. Coping mechanisms, masking techniques have developed.  While my outlook on life does not remain as innocently optimistic and hopeful, I do maintain a resolute faith in myself and my abilities.  Where once I would dismiss my sharp intellect with a naivety in a struggle to be accepted, I now embrace it with fierceness.  My passions have not much changed.  They still bring me joy.  I take comfort to know I am not fickle in such areas.  But I still harbor a pit, a black hole inside of me.  And as I grow in life, it grows in me.   There is no sating it.  There is temporarily ignoring it.

But I'm steering my personal goals toward a path that emphasizes what makes me happy, as opposed what can I do in this world.  There is only so much to do this world.  Be kind.  Be happy.

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