November 14, 2012

• You held your pride like you should have held me

  

  Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things a man needs to believe in the most.  That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love, true love never dies. You remember that, boy. You remember that. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  You’ve got to understand that it took me a lot of courage to make myself come to the realization that everything that I’ve ever wanted and needed is found within you. And for me to put everything aside again, everything that you once broke, is a remarkable task that took a lot of strength and faith in me. They say sometimes people put walls up, not because they want to block people out, but because they want to see who cares enough to knock them down. You know me like no one else does because I never was able to let anyone in, and you don’t even know how glad and thankful I am that I gave you the chance. You stayed at our best, yet you stuck at it at our worst, and proved to me what truth in love still has. The sky is the limit and true love really is forever.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  And I know that things get worse before they get better because that’s what my psychiatrist says, but this is a worse that feels too big.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  I’m always wondering why the right words never came out.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  I am most certainly not all right. But the lie works, as I know it will. That’s what living in their world is – a big lie. An illusion where everyone looks the other way and pretends that nothing unpleasant exists at all.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  How come we’re never happy? It was, I decided, a legitimate question. How come humans, with all their ways to make life easier, were never content? It was as if perfect happiness did not exist. Even now, as the warmth suffocated me and the cold froze me, I was proving it to myself. Just when I wanted something the most, I received it, only to realize that I had never really wanted it in the first place.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  People who dream when they sleep at night know of a special kind of happiness which the world of the day holds not, a placid ecstasy, and ease of heart, that are like honey on the tongue. They also know that the real glory of dreams lies in their atmosphere of unlimited freedom. It is not the freedom of the dictator, who enforces his own will on the world, but the freedom of the artist, who has no will, who is free of will.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  Our days would be happier if we gave people a little bit of our heart rather than a peice of our mind.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  Maybe the best thing to do is just stop trying to figure out where you’re going and just enjoy where you’re at.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  • 2:13 pm
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