I'm not the most moral person that ever lived. I can rationalize anything away. That, in its very essence, makes me a hard person to know. But when the world is entirely comprised of hard, could i ever be any different? Wouldn't i just be a different kind of difficult?
I can say that i love, freely and openly and wholly, despite the things i have done or are thought to have done. Despite the things that have happened around me or have happened to me.
I try to be honest. I try to process those things that i did choose to ignore for so long. I do go to great lengths to preserve any semblance of a calm state, and that does sometimes happen at the expense of others. I have tried to minimize that impact, I am definitely not the whirlwind i once was. I can sometimes comfortably tell myself that what I said I did was so infallible that it doesn't matter what I really did. I can change the inappropriate to the philosophical so easily that i think i don't know the difference anymore. Between what is, and what is plausible.
But i love, so much, too much, and i am seemingly unable to balance this love with any sort of logic. Sometimes i have to run with what i know COULD be true, instead of what IS true.
I have so few insights. I have so many tears(like, rips, slashes, cuts, gaps, openings. not saline leaking from my eyes). I try to just be, and hope that the remarkable pieces of myself push through. I don't know how else to live. I don't know if i have found the right, or convinced myself of a tenuous, shakable truth. I only know how to push forward.
