Too Long @random-access-nostalgia - Tumblr Blog

Easily a statistic, this program isn’t a test, it is a trade. Your mind for their benefit and hopefully one day, yours too.

Pieces, on the floor left unbuilt, moving on.

Don’t take satisfaction, please, this has left your hands a long time ago. This is what I let happen.

It pains me, but at least I know why

I can’t tell the problem from the solution. My voice of reason is soured. You must have affected me down to that level, down to the “objective” part of me that paints for me what’s right and wrong at the end of the day in my quiet (haha) moments.

You guided it, the hand responsible for me becoming myself. But that was wrong, and now I’m stuck with a self that isn’t looking out for me. I shut my eyes and I hear a voice that betrayed its purpose and now I’m lost.

Empathy is as empathy does

You can’t flay me and weep about it later Maybe I’m doing it to myself, because I should have known That I’m no one It won’t sour my energy; your words and love may be plastic, but mine were not I’ve learned, and I’ll grow

Having more and more moments of true clarity.

I wonder what pushes me here.

Change is backed by effort, effort is demanded through pressure.

I don’t know where the pressure is coming from.

I’m moved, I’m sad, I’m uncomfortable, but I like who I’m becoming.

I want to know why

Staying awake late, trying to squeeze out joys that're just not coming.