It would be easier if I didn't care so much. Easier, but I think I'd like myself less. In the end, it's all about the people. If, in your life, you don't love and cry and laugh and be loved, why bother? I guess you have to find your own meaning in life, and this is mine.
It's not such a terrible thing, I think, to need people. It's not such a terrible thing to need to help others. It would be a terrible thing to deny what you are and what you wish to give.
Over the last few days, I've been wrung dry and turned inside out so many times. Caring for people I love, mostly, and a couple of personal things. Mostly other people's sh*t though. I don't know if this being affected by friends' issues is a good thing or a bad. Perhaps... as it often is, it's just a
thing thing. Neither good nor bad, necessarily. Just something that is.
It's hard to be the person you are, whole-heartedly. I think most people are pretty unaware beings. They stumble through life not reflecting, because reflecting means turning the mirror on yourself and asking hard questions to which the answers are often not forthcoming. It means facing yourself, the truth of yourself and the lies you tell.
It's been a long road, and a rocky one. But I think that over time, I'm learning to accept and like the multiplicity of my self. I don't think it'll ever be easy; I think it's written in my DNA, my stars, my nature, to always struggle. But I think that somewhere in that swirling, it's possible to find peace, a moving meditation towards serenity.
