The truth is, I still haven't figured myself out. I'm not lost, yet, I'm not home either. I wonder if it's because I don't have the things I wished for. Is it because of the flaws? Is it because of the life imperfect enough to make me hopeless sometimes?
I think I know where the right path is. I think I know the answers. But no matter how much I know, there are some things I can't hold in my hand. I'm scared of asking myself about my progress. What if I won't like the answer?
I don't like myself sometimes - no, I often don't. Despite that, I don't want to let me down. I may hate myself but I won't let anyone hurt me more than I hurt me. I guess, it's fair. Not everyone has the access to break my soul.
I want to understand myself but it's quite hazy. I want to organize and clarify everything about my life but it's God who's looking after me - he's the artist. The art won't make sense in my eyes for a while but God knows everything will be put into place in the right time.
It happens sometimes, when I just wanted a hard copy of what's happening in my life, in bullets if possible. I badly want to understand what's going on? Where am I leading? Am I making progress? What's the right thing to do?
I don't want to make mistakes, if there are manuals I'd study it too. I don't want to be stuck on the same situation. I don't want to be lost, I want to be home. I don't want to walk on the hallway with mind filled with confusion.
Yet, I don't need to carry tons of questions all at ones. Nor carry the heavy weight of unanswered why's and what on my shoulders. Trust the process even though the process looks absolutely confusing, sad, mad, hilarious, and repeating. Everything will get better in the right time.
Rain
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HER JOURNAL
Não FicçãoIt includes real life situations and events. A glimpse of HER thoughts. Contains poems, quotes and prose. Welcome to HER world - a concoction of poetic sentiments and confessions drizzled with grayish clouds of chaos dusted with fragility and ardor.
