The pull is still there. So, even as I stop, I have to be careful that I don't let go and fall back as I try to climb up. Too bad my hand won’t stop shaking so much as I sever the ropes that pull me down. I might miss or something. Then the wrong rope will get cut… like the ropes that pull me up.

“You never know how much you miss something until it's gone.” Statement: true… But you also never know how deeply you miss something until you (might) get it back and then don’t. That's when you cry, till you can cry no more for the permeating numbness.

Someone once told me that if I look hard enough, I can always find the silver-lining of every cloud, but I think they have been miseducated. Clouds don’t have silver-linings. They have lightening, all the better to strike me down.

It’s like some kind of unspoken rule. If you stand under the boulder and say your shoulders are strong enough. Then, the boulder will fall, and you will be crushed. Just don't be fearful if the tears decide to come raining down as well. Everything comes down. It’s the law of gravity.

Little bits of contentment aren't so precious until they are but a memory. Curiosity is a passion, but like everything else, it’s repressed. Be careful not to talk back to the Universe, or it will back hand your life. Treat others as you would have them treat you, but you’ll still lose your virgin innocence. No one escapes being screwed at least once.

I never use to believe those things. I never believed in magic either. I still don't, just like I never believed in Santa Claus or the Easter bunny. They don't exist. They never have.

I did use to believe in something though, and that was love. I believed that love could make everything all better. (Such is the whimsical thinking of innocent young girls. One would almost wish childhood to last forever because of this. Though, personally, I hate it when things are long and drawn out. It only leaves more time for making bigger mistakes. It gives fate more time to play nasty tricks. It makes more time for games, like the one someone played with the pieces of my soul).

“But I’ll bite my tongue before I tell you what my dreams are.” Yes, I'll bite till I taste the blood, till I have to turn away in tears.

Pieces scattered to the darkness

Leave something of yourself in my book
(if you'd like)