The golden rule

I fully understand the desire for revenge when someone hurts you. Physically or emotionally. But there's a difference between wanting vengeance and actually enacting vengeance whether it be premeditated or impulsive in blind rage. The former is spiteful and, contrary to what people think, isn't the same thing as justice. It only continues the cycle of anger. It only contributes to the problem and feeds the fire so to speak. People live with this eye for an eye mentality and then fail to understand that it's this idea that we have to "get them back" for hurting us as if that would bring justice to the situation. And we think it's justified because, well...they hurt me first, right? Well, when does it end? I think this is why there will never be peace in the world. Not in my lifetime that's for sure.

The one thing that stuck with me from a split moment in my childhood looking at a poster that read, The Golden Rule, it's this; regardless of race, religion, government or, societal standing, there is one commonality within morals spans the globe. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Do unto others as you would do to yourself. Love thy neighbor. I'm not saying its easy. After all 'tis human to err. Humans are sinners and it's only by the grace of God that we're forgiven. But the best you can do is to try.

I'm not trying to preach, lord knows I'm not one to speak. I cannot cast any stones. I've hurt many many people in my life and in some cases I may deserve the anger felt toward me. But no one deserves vengeance. I'm fully stripped of my armor and karma's come to bite me in the tit. That's justice enough for me. I can only rise from this point. And hope will not fail me this time around.

broken

every time i pick up the pieces it falls apart again. the glue that i used wasn't strong enough once it all filled up with unsaid words. it cracked and leaked for months but now it's completely shattered.

its my fault. i know it is. but i'm just a humble human. lost and afraid. i'm broken. i wasn't a perfect specimen to begin with but now i'm broken and scarred.  i wear the hurt like a banner around my shoulders and it drags me down.  the support of my so called best friends has failed me. i deserve the disappointment, but not the hate. i dont need to be belittled when i'm already down. and i'm down far enough that i've lashed out. and i'm sorry for lashing out...  no, that's not right. i'm not sorry i lashed out.  i was defending myself from becoming smaller.  that's all right.  i'm sorry i hurt you. there. that's right.  i'm sorry i hurt you. that wasn't fair of me.  human selfishness knows no bounds. my selfishness and "one sided"ness may sicken you... you may think me immature for my reaction... but there's always more to the story. theres more inside you don't understand. and i understand that you don't see it.  and i can deal with that for now. 

the road ahead looks bumpy, but bring it on.

Obsessed

Obsessed. I wonder if I'm letting my feelings control me. Jealousy. I wonder if I can ever really change. Guilt. I wonder if I'll ever truly forgive. Anger. I wonder if I'll ever be able to stop torturing myself. That's what obsession is. Torture. How else do you describe the relentless need to have something you can't seem to get enough of. Even if it's no good for you. Especially if you can't actually have it. I'm only here now because I'm fighting my demented obsession to ask for things that are far beyond my reach. Hanging onto dreams that will never come true. Wishing for something that is impossible. And still wanting all of it despite being smart enough to know it won't ever be the way I imagine it in my dreams. I should put my damn phone out of commission. At least til I get over everything and can move on. But I know my weakness. My slightly masochistic tendency to bask in the hurt. I miss the happy me.

god given body

"it looks good" she said after draining a vial full of blood from the crook of my arm...  and i reluctantly paste an indulgent smile on my face because i know just by the way she held that needle in my arm that she tore the shit out of my vein. knowing it's not really necessary to say anything after the fact and the faint blue and purples i see today are proof that most lab techs don't really know how to draw blood.  at least i know where this blue blemish comes from.  i have older bruises now faded to dark brown and yellow that just appeared one day.  curse the weak walls of my blood vessels and the delicate pale olive skin that the slightest bump makes me look abused a day later.  curse my natural clumsiness and tendencies to walk into walls and door frames.  curses followed by resignation because this is the body i was given to work with and this is the body that protects the fragile soul within.

slacking

completely devoid of energy and motivation today and captivated by completely random crap.

 

 

i love this and i don't know why. i hate all things horror