Realization

I explored, more like foolishly chased my own inner self. I have confronted things that made me question my own convictions, my self-worth, and even my own sanity. On more than one occasion I had strong desires to inflict harm upon myself and tried to devastate myself from the inside out. I admitted to problems that I had then went right back to committing those same actions. I dove head first in to my own feelings of love, and almost drowned in them. I suppose you can say that I am better now, but it’s not as though those demons are gone. They are a part of me, and I am comfortable to admit it. I’m a hypocrite, I have an addictive personality, and I often seek things that are within my own head. Who knows what kind of damage may have been done during my…lets just say “me time” but I can say that I have dwelled in it for too long. However it was a necessary evil, if I had not have done what I did, I doubt I would see the fault in my ways. And I’m sure there are those who would say all things in moderation, myself included, but can you really justify moderation when it becomes routine? When your desires come to you as frequently as eating, many would argue the signs of addiction, and I don’t think I could come up with a strong enough counterpoint. But perhaps its best that way, if we sat there and fought to legitimize every vice in our life, I shudder to think what shape this world would be in. *Sigh* I don’t know how many times I have sat here and contemplated some deeper meaning, but I think this is the first time that I have genuinely been sick of trying to figure it out. I have grown to a point to where I really don’t care anymore. I want to have more to my life than just incoherent ramblings that only make sense to me. I have grown tired of trying to reach a point of true integrity and enlightenment which more often than not seems unobtainable. I don’t care if we were or were not meant to be together, I really just want to get my life back on track. I have seen how others view me, to some I was nothing more than a mark, saying anything they could just to squeeze out money from me. I was viewed as a piece of meat, the only reason they showed any interest was because of my skin color and the culture it brings. I was a confidant, a fool, a warm soul, a kindred spirit. I think what I was most viewed as however was a mad oracle. I…often saw things that others did not realize, or want to admit and while I’m sure I was not always right, they knew that I always withheld information. But regardless of what I may have learned during my addicting trips to madness, I have to put my foot down and say no more, there is work that must be done.