sometimes when i smoke, i feel that the smell bothers my brother. other times, i feel that i am polluting the environment and the air we breathe. but never once have i thought that maybe it intoxicates my own lungs.
i don't like to get reminded that all the little things i do can harm me. internal wounds are more devastating than the scars on my skin that are memories from my childhood.
i liked when isaac's pale skin would turn baby pink during winter. but then remembering him chips away little bits of my soul because he's gone.
when i stay up for long hours at a time, i mentally drain myself of any energy that i have left. that takes away from my creativity and simply makes me shift from hyperactive to cognitively exhausted.
but what am i to do? stop smoking because it's a health risk? there are worse things.
shall i stop remembering about isaac? forgetting the memories of him completely erases his existence and then how will i remember the peak of my happiness?
and i would rather watch the stars at their brightest and watch the moon rise and set than get sleep.
there is not a correct way to live. a life cannot be taken apart and put back together the way a computer can be fixed. i am not made up of bits of technology. i am not the science of life, i am the spiritual energy that flows like water against itself.
my life consists of beautiful wonders and mind boggling ideologies, yet i am flawed. i can be insane, obnoxious, loud, robust, rogue, and socially feeble, but that doesn't make up all of me. i am not what my mistakes have blinded society to make me out to be.
i am a soul, and i can move mountains with my mind like no other could, because i have strength in places where the world has come crumbling down.
