Time like these writing gets hard for me. I get to introverted and everything I try to write only comes out wrong. There is so much I want to say, but I can not get to say it. I usually beat around the bush and see if anything happens, but I doubt that this will happen here too.
I'm trying to get myself out into the world once more and start getting my spirits up again, but it's so hard. I tried to hit the weights as I pushed myself a bit harder than usual. I know I would only quit after a while because I'm missing that thing inside me that drives me.
That fire. That passion.
It's been hard trying to get that internal fire back up. It's like trying to keep a fire going in a sandstorm. So much effort goes into just trying not to stop caring. I have to be honest, I'm getting to the point where I just stop caring.
I'm trying to keep my hopes up. I'm trying to find all the joy and happiness I can, but I'm just plain moody. I know if I'm around others I will be better. I will be able to absorb the joy of others, but when I'm back to myself I lose all of it as if the most happiest thing has been taken away from me.
I can say that there are certain individuals who have made me feel that joy, but it bothers me that I have to depend on others to get me spirits up.
forget it. I'm not making sense.
I never make sense.
Blame it on the moon.
everyone says they know you
better than you know who
everyone says they own you
more than you do
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