So life is kind of crappy; I can deal. I can make lemonade from lemons.
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Archives:
Dead.
Dying.
Bleeding.
Hurting.
Crying.
Lying.
Cheating.
Sighing.
Living. .
Diving.
Imploding.
Exploding.
Dripping.
Dripping.
Exploding.
Imploding.
Diving.
Living.
Sighing.
Cheating.
Lying.
Crying.
Hurting.
Bleeding.
Dying.
Dead.
They are all the same when you are hurt, destroyed, especially when this hurt comes form someone you love. Why are we forced to love when it almost never endures? The reciprocal of love is hurt, and hurt often outshines the love in living. I am hurt. I am bleeding. I am dying. I am crying. I wonder why. I ponder over this situation, and it suddenly hits me in the head - I am a loser. I can deal. But why is it that, when we find someone we love, they are merely out to destroy us? It is a strangely paradoxical world we live in. Soon I will leave, fade away. Maybe someone will miss me, someday.