In which I ask forgiveness, so that I can begin anew
I think I must begin by apologizing.
I suppose it sounds a little like a suicide note, and in a way, it is. If concepts and ways of viewing life and the world define a person, then I'm killing myself, in the same way that phoenix does, and similarly being born again from the ruins of my old perception into a new and better human being.
On to the delayed apologies.
I'm sorry to everyone who actually cares for me, who has seen my constant struggle against an overarching, life-encompassing depression (a depression by the very meaning of the word -- that gives the feeling of being pressed down) and against surrendering my desires and myself to mediocrity. I know it never made any sense, and I'm sorry you could only look on as I dove deeper and deeper into the beast, because instead of running from it, or ignoring it, or dissolving it with chemicals, or just knocking it unconscious from time to time, I had made the decision to find its core and destroy it from within.
And I'm sorry that I'm not finished. I'm sorry that I'm still going to angst sometimes, I'm still going to murmur cryptic things because I want to tell you everything, but something in me makes me stop, and I'm sorry that this person is still under major construction.
I'm not finished, but I'm getting there, and I have a new weapon at my disposal. I'm stronger than I ever was before, so I'm more determined than ever to tear down the walls that stand between me and the truth.
Caterpillars know what they're doing -- going into a cocoon for the change to butterfly. As long as they're wrapped up, they don't have to focus on anything but what they need to do to become what they're going to be. Humans are silly that way, putting pressure and demands on all sides of a person when what they actually need is to concentrate on changing into themselves.
At any rate, I'm sorry, and I think the worst is over.
I suppose it sounds a little like a suicide note, and in a way, it is. If concepts and ways of viewing life and the world define a person, then I'm killing myself, in the same way that phoenix does, and similarly being born again from the ruins of my old perception into a new and better human being.
On to the delayed apologies.
I'm sorry to everyone who actually cares for me, who has seen my constant struggle against an overarching, life-encompassing depression (a depression by the very meaning of the word -- that gives the feeling of being pressed down) and against surrendering my desires and myself to mediocrity. I know it never made any sense, and I'm sorry you could only look on as I dove deeper and deeper into the beast, because instead of running from it, or ignoring it, or dissolving it with chemicals, or just knocking it unconscious from time to time, I had made the decision to find its core and destroy it from within.
And I'm sorry that I'm not finished. I'm sorry that I'm still going to angst sometimes, I'm still going to murmur cryptic things because I want to tell you everything, but something in me makes me stop, and I'm sorry that this person is still under major construction.
I'm not finished, but I'm getting there, and I have a new weapon at my disposal. I'm stronger than I ever was before, so I'm more determined than ever to tear down the walls that stand between me and the truth.
Caterpillars know what they're doing -- going into a cocoon for the change to butterfly. As long as they're wrapped up, they don't have to focus on anything but what they need to do to become what they're going to be. Humans are silly that way, putting pressure and demands on all sides of a person when what they actually need is to concentrate on changing into themselves.
At any rate, I'm sorry, and I think the worst is over.