the end of it all.

Hello all my fellow readers, those of you who have wondered where i have been, and those of you who didn't even know i wrote. Its Monday night. I'm not only writing this after a hard day but with a broken thumb and a wounded hand.

Life seems so simple when we are smiling, happy, enjoying the little things the day brings. Nothings better than sitting down with friends over dinner, kicking back and joking with those you love. reminiscing about old times in highschool and college. In these moments nothing is out of place, nothing is wrong. It's perfect, right down to the smile on your loved one's face.
and at the same time nothing seems more complicated the moment all these things are ripped from you, torn from your life like a home up in flames. You sit there on your kitchen floor, a bottle in one hand and a pack of cigs in the other, and you think to yourself "Where did it all go?" the dinners, the parties, the jokes, your loved one? it all became a distant memory to painful to look back on and think of. Its like searching the desert for the last drop of rain that you knew had already been taken by the heat.
You smile at the mirages of old memories, even though your heart feels as if you hugged a cactus. we have all been there once, twice, and for a few of us, more than we can count. But we always keep trying, searching, longing. Loneliness fills us with grief and we still press on through the pain and seek out yet another heartbreak. All for the sake of what? LOVE? Hope? a since of security? the thought that we wont die alone, depressed, and worthless?
This world is sick, vomiting upon its own dinner plate like flies so no one else can touch their prize. a broken society where the word love only consists of a broken bed in a hotel room you rented for three hours. commitment only referring to until i feel otherwise. And here i sit, still holding my empty bottle of pain, and lifeless memories upon my crinkled pack of smokes. Hoping that maybe a spark will fly from the end and engulf not only my reality but myself within its burning flames of justice. We are sick, and we don't care.
LOVE! tell me you love me... I've asked it many a times. I like everyone else only seek for that one simple word. Tell me? does the word mean so little to the rest of you? OF COURSE NOT! When i tell someone i love them, i'm ready to fight for that word, against all odds and other words. When i say "I love you" I raise a sword in defense against a world that seeks to crush what little hope we have.

I'm not even going to finish this blog, i might, once i write the story that pertains to it. bare with me while i gather my thoughts. its been a rough week.