( 4:53 GA ) The talk.
I talked to one of my friends that associate with ex-fine shyt, and I told him about what kind of situation I'm in—where I know her romantically—but he knows her on a friend level. And I used to have a very warped perception of him, but I feel as if it was in all good faith. I deadass felt jealous that she didn't invite me to things, and that's what I feel. I own my feelings—I can't control them—but I own them nonetheless. These emotions that arise from me are like my children. I must let it evolve, grow, and mature in order for it to be a healthy, autonomous part of me. And of course these feelings will leave, and sometimes they comeback as if they are children that miss their parent. He really did give me hope though. After the conversation with him, I had to leave the train early to depart to somewhere else, but when going to my destination, I wondered, "Is this what I felt I needed?"
This is almost like a shock to me, and I know that he is in good faith, and that I am capable of much more than what I set out to do, and what I set out to hate. I am more than hate. I am more than even love.
I am.
But hold on, not so fast. I had doubts whether or not she still liked me, as what I described to my friend was simply a friendship between me and ex-fine shyt. I would like her in my life, but I don't want her to suffer because of me. And I do not want her to suffer because she starts to gain feelings about me. That is what truly saddens me to my core to this day. This sort of equation feels incomplete, and I think that the chemical bonds need to be balanced. I can make an effort to—and I can show my sincerity—but again, I don't know what she feels, and she doesn't know what I feel.
Well, I feel like ass every single day. I avoid so many of my problems because I set out to do more than myself. I set out to be more than myself. And yet I fail at every attempt that I try to regain a skill back in the day, or decalcify that skills of yester-year. I feel like a dog chasing it's own tail, except my tail is my past, and my eyes look toward the future. My actions represent that dog that just spins around, repeating that which it's entertained by until it's unable to. That inability to me was my motivation, my purpose, and my will to keep on going. I feel like that is samsara: Hell. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
I did not sleep since yesterday—and I want to sleep—but I have no bed. As I write this right now, I'm genuinely about to crash. This is too much relaxation for one time.
I want to thank this bro, but I don't know whether I will accidentally rizz her again, or that she might as well hate me and dispise her, which is a fate better than debt for if,oooooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd
I'm too sleepy, GN.