Have I gone too far?
Have I become something I always told myself I'd never become? Monster am I not. Too much love is what I feel.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Boys have always been a weakness of mine. I love the attention. I love feeling needed, wanted, desired. Is it that fills up empty space where there should be love? Should I attribute it to being picked on as a child? Having no father figure growing up? Is there really anything I can blame it on? I fear this might be the path to my demise. I do not feel bad. In fact, I feel bad for not feeling bad.
Too much introspection.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Boys have always been a weakness of mine. I love the attention. I love feeling needed, wanted, desired. Is it that fills up empty space where there should be love? Should I attribute it to being picked on as a child? Having no father figure growing up? Is there really anything I can blame it on? I fear this might be the path to my demise. I do not feel bad. In fact, I feel bad for not feeling bad.
Too much introspection.
posted by Danielle @ 7:54 PM
1 Comments:
At Monday, November 21, 2005 10:08:00 AM,
HopeMd said…
Never too far - when you want to come home.
Never too much introspection.
And your thoughts are quite coherent.
All of this is the plight that all humans find themselves in.
The struggle is universal.
The struggle between good and evil.
Life and death.
(Interesting that you write on a white blog and a black blog)
Two different views of you.
The answers to the questions you ask yourself are all part of a puzzle that, for right now, seems scattered all over the floor of your existence.
Rest assured, the parts of the puzzle do fit together.
There are answers.
You know some of them right now – in your heart.
Go with wise decisions like you mentioned a few blogs ago.
Life can be wonderfully happy and content for you.
A life filled with hope and love.
You deserve the very best.
Don’t settle for anything less.
The Land of Beginning Again
I wish that there were some wonderful place
Called the Land of Beginning Again
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all of our poor selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door
And never be put on again.
I wish we could come on it all unaware
Like the hunter who finds a lost trail'
And I wish that the one whom our blindness had done
The greatest injustice of all
could be at the gates like an old friend that waits
For the comrade he's gladdest to hail.
We would find all the things we intended to do
But forgot, and remembered too late
Little praises unspoken, little promises broken
And all of the thousand and one
Little duties neglected that might have perfected
The day for one less fortunate.
It wouldn't be possible not to be kind
In the Land of Beginning Again
And the ones we misjudged and the ones whom we grudged
Their moments of victory here
Would find in the grasp of our loving handclasp
More than penitent lips could explain.
For what had been hardest we'd know had been best
And what had seemed loss would be gain'
For there isn't a sting that will not take wing
When we've faced it and laughed it away
And I think that the laughter is most what we're after
In the Land of Beginning Again
So I wish that there were some wonderful place
Called the Land of Beginning Again
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all of our poor selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door
And never be put on again.
-Louisa Fletcher
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