"I don’t know what’s getting into me…
I just like the rush when you see your enemy somewhere in the club,
And you realize he just not in a position to reciprocate your energy.
You ain’t ever worried cause he’s not who he pretends to be.”
Why do we hold on?
Why do we cling hopelessly?
Why do we care so much?
It hurts. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Sometimes there is no pain at all. The desire for something we cannot grasp grows stronger and stronger until we finally we lose it all together. Why does it take picking up all of the pieces to finally realize the error of our ways?
Even within recovery of this, we still desire…still want endlessly.
How could we control this?
Forget the past?
Forget the future?
No…I resent the idea.
Even when peering into the diary of a madman, one could find the shell of a person. A person who once loved, once lost. However, when the pain becomes great enough to the point of breaking a man’s soul…it is him that is truly gone. No more color, no more wit. But forever forgotten in sorrow.
Why not let go?