smokin’

smokin’

the embers are still smoking away.. the fire continues on a never-ending cycle of flare and quell. i’m either running hot or cold, and all i want is to be warm.. just warm.. is that too much to ask for? apparently so, it’s never a happy medium, it’s all or nothing, everything and nothing, and no one likes that, so i’ve been told. communicate, but don’t complain, and remember that you’re more sensitive than most, but you’ll have to be tougher on yourself, so stand up and face it, but take nothing more than you deserve – you’re better than that..

i can’t make sense of it, so i doubt you lot will.

sorry.

4 Comments

  1. Anonymous

    Pa Pedantic.

    I don’t know what to write anymore. I’ve already deleted a good 30 lines of text or so.
    I’ll try it one more time.

    It seems like we’re both searching for the same things. Almost everything I write is painted black with effigies of my soul; hung with my emotional destruction. All I’ve asked for is to be content. I mean, that’s the same as being warm, right? Why must we fight this constant ragnarok? Why can’t we be naive? Why after everything do we still have do care? If we didn’t care, you wouldn’t have this diary, and I wouldn’t be responding in it. We’ve both been burnt by our childhoods, and as much as I try to leave it behind, there are things in my heart that I will take to my grave. There are too many words that my lips will never form. The weights of my past, secured with iron fastings… They hold me back and pull me forward. Tearing me further in two everyday. I would love to be warm…

    I could never, held in the constraints of society, write an online journal, and let people know what I’m feeling, and I admire you for that.

    -Danny Drak ()

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