I’ve been trying to pull my head together and out of my ass for quite some time now. It hasn’t been working out so well for me. I feel like I’ve got a lot of things to say and yet most of the time I have nothing to say at all. It took a hit of mycoplasma bronchitis, or walking pneumonia, to wake me up. I tore myself to pieces and took myself apart. I knew better than that and yet I still put myself down hard. I allowed myself too much rope and I just nearly hung myself with it. The luxury of the trees has always been that no one ever cared I was there. I could be in the darkest of midnight or on the high of my life and it didn’t matter. I never showed it. No one got to see. I took care of me, I always have. Then I made a big fucking mistake. I dropped the walls to the wrong person. I trusted the wrong person. I let the wrong person show me that I didn’t have to be alone in the night. Then I was again. Just gone and it didn’t even matter. That rocked my entire world. I let it control me and turn my world upside down. I was blind and I was stupid. I was wrong. Go figure. I can’t do this anymore though. I can’t live in the past anymore. I can’t torture myself anymore. It would be easy to stay here. It’s so easy to just take myself apart. It’s so easy to just sit in the dark and replay every mistake over and over. It’s so easy to torture myself for everything I’ve done wrong. It’s time to stop taking the easy way out.
I’ve come to a place now where I’ve got a lot of decisions to make. I need to decide if the bridges I’m burning are worth saving or if letting them go up in flames is exactly what I need to do. Some of them, it’s probably best to let go of, but the rest, well. Some times we all have to swallow our pride. It taste like chalk, by the way. In case anyone was wondering.