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    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
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Tapping at my chamber door



In 2008, I'll Get Me A Shotgun


I will also:
1.
Yield
2. Get closer to
God
3.
Job hunt some more.
4. Get closer to my
family.
5. Learn a new language.
6.
Finish at least one screenplay.
7.
Lose the extra weight.
8. Get a
driver's license. I will not buy a car.
9. I will
rule my world.
10. I will have my
revenge.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Alcoholic Anonymous: Session 1

Lately, I've been waking up to new reality checks everyday. It feels as if I'm undergroing group therapy sessions; only I'm the only "patient" in that group… or so I think. The rest of them I can't see. I can feel them cheering me on to take that step to the next level… but my depth is wearing out and without that depth I can't really feel them, listen to them… all I can do is set there and… confess.

Thinking back… admitting the crimes, the number of times I was a jackass, selfish, egoistic fucker. I admitted… I needed to take action. I started off by emailing a couple of my ex-girlfriends whom I know I've hurt. They were my special ones. I wrote an apology, asked them not to reply for there's nothing really left to say, but… deep down I wanted one…

… and I don't know why.

A reality check every once in a while is beneficial, healthy for the soul… but when you find yourself with new checks every fucking morning that's when it starts to get depressing. That's when you feel that you're not made of dust or sand or holy spirit… you're made of pure flaws… and you start to believe that it's too late to fix them because they are you. You don't feel solid anymore. You've tried to change yourself, fix yourself so many times that you've become a… puddle? A puddle of strained ooze of something that once was a person.

I don't feel home anymore. It doesn't feel as warm as it used to… my imaginary blankets I tore at the very notion of potential sunlight… but… I guess I was wrong. I guess I made that up in my head to grant myself hope. I make a list of the things that I want, desire… but here's the ultimate truth: If you make a list of things it only means that you want someone to see it, read it, share their thoughts, perhaps even share those goals…

But the fact remains that the things you really, really want… the things that haunt your mind and heart, you would not put down in a list, you would not share out loud for a mere whisper could ruin that dream. Those things you don't put down in a list… you just pray for them silently and hope that someone up there knows.

Alcoholic Anonymous: Session 1

Lately, I've been waking up to new reality checks everyday. It feels as if I'm undergroing group therapy sessions; only I'm the only "patient" in that group… or so I think. The rest of them I can't see. I can feel them cheering me on to take that step to the next level… but my depth is wearing out and without that depth I can't really feel them, listen to them… all I can do is set there and… confess.

Thinking back… admitting the crimes, the number of times I was a jackass, selfish, egoistic fucker. I admitted… I needed to take action. I started off by emailing a couple of my ex-girlfriends whom I know I've hurt. They were my special ones. I wrote an apology, asked them not to reply for there's nothing really left to say, but… deep down I wanted one…

… and I don't know why.

A reality check every once in a while is beneficial, healthy for the soul… but when you find yourself with new checks every fucking morning that's when it starts to get depressing. That's when you feel that you're not made of dust or sand or holy spirit… you're made of pure flaws… and you start to believe that it's too late to fix them because they are you. You don't feel solid anymore. You've tried to change yourself, fix yourself so many times that you've become a… puddle? A puddle of strained ooze of something that once was a person.

I don't feel home anymore. It doesn't feel as warm as it used to… my imaginary blankets I tore at the very notion of potential sunlight… but… I guess I was wrong. I guess I made that up in my head to grant myself hope. I make a list of the things that I want, desire… but here's the ultimate truth: If you make a list of things it only means that you want someone to see it, read it, share their thoughts, perhaps even share those goals…

But the fact remains that the things you really, really want… the things that haunt your mind and heart, you would not put down in a list, you would not share out loud for a mere whisper could ruin that dream. Those things you don't put down in a list… you just pray for them silently and hope that someone up there knows.







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