Musings of me

As I write this, my heart is full of a thousand emotions, though none of it shows on my face. This probably sounds like the musings of an emotionally depressed or retarded person, but I guess, who am I to persuade you otherwise?

There comes a time when one gets tired. Tired of being told what to do. Tired of conforming to policies that one does not believe in. Tired of being underestimated. Tired of being misinterpreted. Tired of being held back. Tired of being patience. Tired of controlling. Tired of offering the left cheek. Tired of keeping silent. Tired of controlling one's emotions. Tired of adhering to the mold another sets. Tired of being put down. Tired of being the way one is. Tired of sounding like this. Tired of being looked down upon. Tired of being tired. Tired of being frowned at. Tired of being wrong. Tired of being contradicted. Tired of arguments. Tired of having to hide in secrecy. Tired of misunderstandings. Tired of being misunderstood. Tired of being treated like a child. Tired of meeting hypocrites. Tired of being hypocritical. Tired of having to please others. Tired of the thoughts in my head. Tired of the beast dormant within. Tired of past hurts unforgotten. Tired of guilt. Tired of regret. Tired of pride. Tired of sorrow. Tired of anger. Tired of hatred. So so so much hatred. Sometimes its so difficult to bear. A hate that drives the blood through my very veins. An anger that both soothes and kills me. A quiet lack of forgiveness. Tired of revenge. Tired. So so so so so very tired. Just so tired.

However, despite all these fatigues of life, I am still grateful. I mean this in the most genuine and sincere contexts. I feel that it is childish to pity oneself. It is not wrong to have that pity. It is no sin. But it is a sin if it keeps me from accomplish my life's true goal. I guess this is just a time to let off some steam no?

I sing. I sing . I sing in the bath. In the rooms. In my heart. I guess it's still good to be alive. Being a former sadist and macabre obsessed fool, I do know the sanctity and peace of death, and the joy that comes with it. But, death in my opinion, is meaningless without life. There is no point in death if one does not live. My one true goal is to inspire in another's life a passion and spark to do well despite the circumstances. How or when or who, I leave it to my Lord.

But I know that when I accomplish that goal, I can die with a smile on my face. And face death with a kiss and a warm hug.

I guess whoever reads this will probably have many perceptions about the author of this blog. But I guess , I don't really bother nowadays. Its fine to me if people think I am a jerk or a weirdo. I have neither the compulsion nor the need to make them think otherwise. One of the most important, if archaic things about me is the need to uphold a standard of honor. As long as I keep to that creed, I guess it doesn't really matter what others say.

Oh well, I have much more to say, but I've run out of time. Oh well, Bye BYE.