cold, heavy hearts.

It's a feeling of suffocation. Desperation. Hunger for air to fill your lungs. Paralyzed by a life that is gone, a life that had barely begun. I wonder about the thought that brought that life to an end, the finalization of an emotion. A leap of faith. So much sadness, so much anger - and no answers. We will never know, never understand the motives - and we will always hold that within us. I searched the crowd for some sort of connection - some sort of reality. It doesn't even take knowing the life, to miss it. To reevaluate where you are and who you have and put into perspective what a gift breathing really is. It took me back to hating this place - hating having emotions, missing and loving and hurting and grieving. "Everyone has the right to leave on their own terms" but what about everyone left behind? What about us, sitting here in puddles of tears begging for some numbing for the pain? Is it selfish to leave? Or selfish to stay - and wallow in self loathing? Who knows... who cares? Is what it is - and no one will ever understand the motives. We will miss that smile, though.

i've got better things to do than survive,

im teetering between tired, and really really tired - im wiped and im wired, but i guess it's just as well.

it's an ongoing battle of emotion and love and control and i can't help but feel like we're in some kind of fucking pissing contest or tug-of-war. did anyone ever say this was going to be simple? if they did, they were lying. something about the way the water flows leads me to believe that the voyage is going to be a rocky one. and who is that going to benefit in the grand scheme of things? whose going to walk away from it saying it was worth it? i assume, naturally, that it's not easy to adjust and adapt and let it slide - i can't even say it's an easy task for myself to accomplish. but who can be the judge of such a trial? who can sit and say you are right and you are wrong and THIS is the way that things should be done? who can dictate the ebb and flow of the lives in our hands? us. that's it - it's up to us! to make sure that life is as happy, enjoyable and productive that is humanly possible. that the lessons that need to be taught, will be taught - and not only taught, but understood and absorbed. that the imaginations of little humans are encouraged and expressed. that the discipline is just, and warranted. that the fight is minimal, that the resistance wains away after time (because it will, with work). but nothing that comes easy, is worth it. so roll up your sleeves - let go of your reservations, and enjoy this. because these days, will never come back - we will never have this time again. and if a battle is the only path to be taken, it will be battled solo. i will not fight over the roles we have taken on, not wage war against the unity of where we stand. but don't ever think, that i will not be ready and willing to find new ways and explore new territory and try new tactics in union. after all, THAT is what I signed on for.

loss of perspective

Days slip away - and I find I can't remember anyone's name, anymore. The sun crept up on me and I don't think I was expecting it. It stays around long enough that there is no hiding in the dark of night anymore - no solitude of blackness. I wonder sometimes if we'll make it home, if our tireless efforts to make headway on the constant lag will pay off. I'm teetering on the edge of insanity with a smile on my face, because there is no stopping in this race. Still so much to absorb with so little time to really let it set. So much room to grow, but yet it feels like the walls are closing in around me some days. Even now, as I sit and try and regurgitate all that it stuffed inside of my head - I am beckoned and required elsewhere. So little time for this mind of mine, so little time. And so I will go, and this will wait - and days will pass before I realize how much I have to say, how much I need to let it rest and watch it grow.