Confession .32. Didn’t They Tell You That I Was A Savage?

Tryna fix your inner issues with a bad bitch
Didn’t they tell you that I was a savage?
Fuck your white horse and a carriage
Bet you could never imagine
Never told you, you could have it

I’m not going to be terribly long-winded, and for that I apologize.  I’m incredibly tired at the moment, but I have good reason to be.

I am officially done with classes!  Like, done done!  *Happy dances*

Confession .31. I Used To Recognize Myself

So let it go, just let it be
Why don’t You be You, and I’ll be me…
Everything that’s broke, leave it to the breeze
Let the ashes fall, forget about me.

“Let it go.”  If only it were that simple, right?

I mean, people tell us this all the time.  Oh, it’s not that bad.  Come on, you need to just let it go.  You’ll never feel better if you don’t move on.  Baby steps – you still gotta move forward.  This is easy to say for a bunch of people that aren’t in that moment with you, right then.  Now granted, it’s not always an earth-shattering problem that we’re dealing with, and we likely DO need to let it go and start to move forward, but in that moment?  In that very moment, standing right there?  It’s like you’re frozen.  Feet glued to the ground.  You physically /can’t/ move forward, even if you wanted to.

Confession .30. Have I Done Enough?

Let me tell You what I wish I’d known
When I was young and dreamed of glory…
You have no control
Who lives, who dies, who tells your story…

When I don’t know what else to do, I blog.

Of those of you that see this, fifty percent of you don’t read the words I write in these things.  Of those of you that see this, twenty-five percent of you will start reading and give up halfway through (hell, maybe you’ll give up right here.)  Of those of you that see this, twelve-and-a-half percent will read it all the way through, but not understand what any of this is.  Of those of you that see this, six-and-a-quarter will understand but not have any clue “what to do for you”, as if anything you do can make me feel less… weird.  To the remaining six-and-a-quarter percent… hi there.  Thanks for being here, and thanks in advance for not hounding me about how I’m feeling.