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2.4k · Nov 2014
Thinking
No matter how difficult life seems to become at times,
Things always get better.
A heart can be broken and then beating faster than it ever has before in only a few days difference,
And sometimes, that's just life.

There's no set chart of when you'll feel ecstatic and whole,
Or even when you'll feel sad and empty,
But it's a natural fluctuation, and it makes us stronger and into who we are today.
Without it, we would never grow into the people you see staring back at you in the mirror each day.

When you feel like screaming and crying and giving up, just remember that you've gotten through this before,
You can fight through this, and no matter how bad things seem.
There is always a better time and a better place awaiting you at the end of your struggle.
Just don't give up.

Keep fighting, no matter how futile your efforts seem,
No matter how much you want to quit and resign to darkness,
Keep fighting, and never give up.
You can do this; you are strong, you are loved, and you are cared for.

*Never stop fighting.
1.0k · Nov 2014
Pieces
Sometimes, we seem to lose sight of who we think that we are;
Something can happen, and it feels as if we are broken into pieces.

You forget who you are,
You forget why certain things in life had or have meaning to you,
You forget how to smile with the same enthusiasm as you once had,
You forget why you found happiness around certain people or in certain events,
You forget your reason for living.

Yet, you pick yourself back up, give yourself a pat on the back and carry on.

You remember how to smile,
You remember how to laugh,
You remember how to be yourself,
You remember how to live again, and go on with your life as if nothing had ever happened.

In each relapse and recovery, however, a small piece of yourself is lost in the process. You cannot feel it, but you can see it when you take a step back and reflect upon the past.

An old habit is replaced with a new fixation,
A new characteristic has taken over in your personality,
An old friend is no longer on speaking terms with you,
A plethora of old notes and keepsakes were destroyed in an erstwhile fit of rage,
A sweet memory turned sour by a recent event.

Each time we fall into this cycle, we lose a small piece of ourselves.
We change, sometimes for the better, but sometimes for the worse.
Some never leave the cycle, while others simply relive it one too many times.

Valuable people, places, memories, recollections, and thoughts lost to the past, pieces of you that you tried to keep but ended up losing in the process. You don't want to change, you don't want to leave these pieces behind.

But each time you break you forget to pick up the pieces that fall off of you, or you lose them. You can never fully heal and return to the way you were before you shattered into shards. Without certain fragments, you can never be put back together the same way.

Yet, people grow, people change. These missing pieces grow back and manifest in new and strange ways, and it isn't all anxiety and melancholy.

Eventually, we can learn to live, love, learn, act, and behave freely once more; we can use the new pieces of ourselves to change into something great, new, exiting. We can flourish in another form, because sometimes, we are meant to be something other than what we had originally started out to be.

Sometimes, we seem to lose sight of who we think that we are;
But then something can happen, and it feels as if we are made whole again.
895 · Nov 2014
Future Thoughts
Gradually the sun sets, no longer a hero to chase away the darkness of the world, only leaving it's shadow to illuminate the Earth as it slowly spins away from it's bright visage.

A cool breeze begins to blow, enveloping the world in a frigid breath, allowing the last lingering signs of day to fade into the stillness of the night.

I raise my head from my pillow and move towards the window, looking out into a midnight field, as if only to reminisce about the past.

A tiny child, betrothed to none other than promise, imagination, and potential.
A wayward girl, unknowing of her past or present, lost to dreams of a future untold.
A ruined teenager, lost to her father and mother, stripped of her true friends, known to all as no one.
A blank adult, unknown to all and shrouded in enigma and concern, yet somehow still a hypothesized complete and utter failure.


I think quietly to myself, and skim my dull eyes over the picturesque view outside of my window, choosing to focus on the moonlight's reflection in the grass rather than on the thoughts that still rebound in my head.

What was promised can not be unbroken
The ones I claim are my friends could care less about me
He had only done what he had because I was not good enough for him
I am only hurting like this because of the situations that I have created for my own torture and amusement.


I place my head back down onto my pillow, feeling it dampen against my cheek.

No matter how hard I may try, this cannot be undone.

The moon takes hold of the sky, rising to it's uppermost point as I quickly slip away into the recess of my own mind, wondering what will come next, and how I will combat it.

Wistful thinking and hopes for a sunnier day bid me to sleep, and the world around me begins to fade to black as I tell myself yet again the same phrase I have been repeating for over a month.

*Perhaps tomorrow, I will feel better. For now, I can wait.

— The End —