So... I look at my life now and wonder why I still don't like myself. My life is not hard (granted i do have a lot of responsibilities and my job is crazy stressful but i get paid very good money) and I live in a place where, if i wanted, i could find another job easily. My life, when i was homeless, was filled with so much more. So much more life, so much more vigor, so much more sex... I ran away from that time in my life for the promos of security and the chance or progress as a person but i feel i have not. I feel i have just trudged away at the monotony of life. I gave up so much... Love... Piece of mind... My ... first... ya.... I am too ashamed to say i gave him up because i know, in my heart, he would not be happy in this country.
I have always been sad. Stuck in this melancholy of infinite sadness. I have always had hope. The place where dreamers dreamed i have stood and looked into the place where hope and love meet and just saw the abyss.
This is sappy shit, i know, but damn... I can not get over the aching feeling that resides in my bones that there is more.... I have more to do... And i am not where i should be.
Well, I'm going to eat my barito and contimplate my pile of woe... Your love is there. Don't forget who you are................................
