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So far and yet so close we seem to be from the things that make us happy. At times, our game-winning shot misses. At times, our lovers leave us to just wishes. Hurt, pain, and sorrow lays in our end to a life without love or friend. These feelings strangle and smother our peace like the wrath of none other. Repetition. From repeated reaches to resurgence, to taking tyrannical triumph, to taking rejoice, I repeatedly have nothing. Words of “try again” and “get over it” reverberate in my mind, rocking my resolve to sleep. Rupturing results rips, tears through tiers of my resilience, turning me to tears. They creep into my dreams, upon my thrills, onto my choices, inside my hopes, like ants in tents. With cruel intent, every failure rends me so intense. But how to respond? If I show a lack of care by a loss, “Maybe it wasn’t too serious”. But if I reply with hurt and sadness, “maybe you’re just overreacting”. But only for so long can I just “make the best out of a bad situation”. How many times do I need to fail, in order to succeed? If I didn’t care so much, then I wouldn’t hurt so much. But what is a life lived so unlively? Why am I wrong to make the most of what I’m given? To wish, to hope is seen as good ambition when it’s a success, but when I fail then I overdid it?
0
May 16, 2020
May 16, 2020 at 12:36 PM UTC
Almost
So far and yet so close we seem to be from the things that make us happy. At times, our game-winning shot misses. At times, our lovers leave us to just wishes. Hurt, pain, and sorrow lays in our end to a life without love or friend. These feelings strangle and smother our peace like the wrath of none other. Repetition. From repeated reaches to resurgence, to taking tyrannical triumph, to taking rejoice, I repeatedly have nothing. Words of “try again” and “get over it” reverberate in my mind, rocking my resolve to sleep. Rupturing results rips, tears through tiers of my resilience, turning me to tears. They creep into my dreams, upon my thrills, onto my choices, inside my hopes, like ants in tents. With cruel intent, every failure rends me so intense. But how to respond? If I show a lack of care by a loss, “Maybe it wasn’t too serious”. But if I reply with hurt and sadness, “maybe you’re just overreacting”. But only for so long can I just “make the best out of a bad situation”. How many times do I need to fail, in order to succeed? If I didn’t care so much, then I wouldn’t hurt so much. But what is a life lived so unlively? Why am I wrong to make the most of what I’m given? To wish, to hope is seen as good ambition when it’s a success, but when I fail then I overdid it?
May 1, 2018: Failure really ***** The feeling of being right at the start of the finish line and seeing someone just barely crossing it before you can is an awful tragedy. These failures can also be the events in life that alter and change our perceptions, thoughts, and views of the world.
DeVaughnStation
Written by
25/M/Omaha, NE
May 16, 2020
May 16, 2020 at 12:36 PM UTC
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