after the weekend

After the weekend, my week starts, and I have returned to my old habit of being stressed out all the time.

Something about these uncharacteristically warm autumn days gets me thinking, usually about nothing in particular.

"What is the greatest experience you can have? It is...the hour when you say, 'What matters my happiness? It is poverty and filth and wretched contentment. But my happiness ought to justify existence itself.'
-- Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra (Kaufmann translation)

I had never read Nietzche before, though I knew a good deal about him (or so I believed). I think my friend Matt ascertained it best: reading Nietzche is difficult because "either you're going into it biased, in which case you may as well not even bother, or you're going into it blind, which is worse." I found myself to be one of the former, at least, until I began to read. What I did not find was a sense of disgust at the absolute blasphemy, nor that disdain of what I would term to be overly "emo," and therefore not worth attention.

Instead, what I found was compassion and pity. I owe it to reading the translator's notes at the beginning of the book, detailing Nietzsche's bad digestion, near-blindness, and migraines that would hold him hostage for days at a time, among other things. Yet it was not simply the physical maladies of the slight, slightly stooped man that caused me to pity him. It was when the translator spoke of him as an "utterly lonely man" that I began to feel very sorry for him. I hated myself for having thought ill of him simply on the basis of quotes which I read completely out of context. Rather than seeing Nietzsche as the sneering, arrogant, angry Modern who writes "God is dead" simply to draw a reaction, I saw him for what he was: unaffected, tortured, and utterly lonely.

Nietzche himself would hate me for pitying him, as when he writes,
...The hour when you say: "What good is my pity? Is not pity the cross on which he is nailed who loves man?"

But I have found that while being compassionate towards other people can sometimes be a burden, it is far lighter than the feeling of guilt for refusing to sympathize for a fellow human being.

We live in an age where the individual is considered the supreme entity. Self-consciousness, self-awareness, self-improvement, self-confidence, self-esteem, self-help, self-indulgence, and the list continues.

Let me put it this way: if you ever have need of a camera, you only need to go so far as a teenager's bathroom to find one.

Clearly, we are obsessed with ourselves.

I heard a statistic once that said the average person spends only 5%-10% of his or her time thinking about other people. This is a problem. Isn't it interesting how, along with our total vanity, we are now seeing an utter breakdown of community? Families are imploding upon themselves, countries are divided, and bombs rip apart entire neighborhoods daily, all because people are so busy pushing their own agendas that they have forgotten what is truly important: life, love, breath, friendship, family, cooperation.

If we put all of our effort into ourselves, what is left after we die? It is like renovating a home after it has been condemned to be demolished. It is pointless. I recognize that it is not always easy to put other people before yourself. But then, that which is truly rewarding is never easy. And so I offer a challenge:

"This is ME. This is what I am. This is what I do. This is what I think. This is MY opinion. This is what's important to ME."

Just stop.

Banish these thoughts. They are poverty and filth and wretched contentment.

Today is the day to ask someone, "What is important to you?"

that's my KING

My King is a sovereign King. No means of measure can define His limitless love. No far seeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of His shoreless supply. No barrier can hinder Him from pouring out His blessings. He's enduringly strong. He's entirely sincere. He's eternally steadfast. He's immortally graceful. He's imperially powerful. He's impartially merciful. Do you know Him?

He's the greatest phenomenon that ever crossed the horizon of this world. He's God's Son. He's a sinner's Savior. He's the centerpiece of civilization. ... He's unique. He's unparalleled. He's unprecedented. He's the loftiest idea in literature. He's the highest personality in philosophy. He's the supreme problem in higher criticism. He's the fundamental doctrine of true theology. He's the cardinal necessity for spiritual religion. He's the miracle of the age. He's the superlative of everything good that you choose to call Him. He's the only one qualified to be an all-sufficient Savior. I wonder if you know Him today?

He supplies strength for the weak. He's available for the tempted and the tried. He sympathizes and He saves. He strengthens and sustains. He guards and He guids. He heals the sick. He cleanses lepers. He forgives sinners. He discharges debtors. He delivers captives. He defends the feeble. He blesses the young. He serves the unfortunate. He regards the aged. He rewards the diligent. He beautifies the meek. I wonder if you know Him?

My King is the King. He's the key to knowledge. He's the wellspring to wisdom. He's the doorway of deliverance. He's the pathway of peace. He's the roadway of righteousness. He's the highway of holiness. He's the gateway of glory. Do you know Him?

His office is manifold. His promise is sure. His light is matchless. His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting. His love never changes. His word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. His yoke is easy, and His burden is light. I wish I could describe Him to you, but He's indescribable. He's incomprehensible. He's invincible. He's irresistible.

You can't get Him out of your mind. You can't get Him off of your hand. You can't outlive Him, and you can't live without Him.

The Pharisees couldn't stand Him, but they found out they couldn't stop Him. Pilate couldn't find any fault in Him. ... Herod couldn't kill Him. Death couldn't handle Him, and the grave couldn't hold Him. Yeah! That's my King, that's my King.
-- Dr. S.M. Lockridge

why i came to the city

I came to the city to learn deeply, to be challenged greatly, and thus be greatly rewarded.

I came to read Nietzsche, Coleridge, Sartre, Byron and Poe and have no one tell me that they were drunken, drugged or lifeless men, only that they were men with ideas and visions and passions that set them apart from their peers.

I came to create and explore that which ennobles mankind: music, art, philosophy.

I came to ask the pressing questions -- Who am I? What is humanity? What is a life of faith? Who is God? What am I really supposed to do with my life? -- and begin to find the answers.

I came to dive into cultural diversity, to smell and see it everywhere, to make friends in many circles, savor their differences and experience that which makes us all the same - breath, faith, love.

I came to be moved to tears by poignant moments, unashamed of emotion and dedicated to living a life in bright and saturated color.

I came to surrender myself to God and experience Him in new ways.

I came to sip coffee and intellectualize, unashamed to be young and curious.

I came to develop my own potential, with the help and blessing of He who gave me that potential.

I came to take in the bad times along with the good, to suffer, to toil, and thus to reap a greater appreciation of the good times, when they come.

I came to taste freedom, free from material burdens.

I came to speak dramatically, even poetically, with many infinitives.

I came to throw my head back and laugh with gusto.

I came to be bold, broke and happy.

I came to live my life in a shout, not a whisper.

Oscar Wilde once said, "It is tragic how few people ever 'possess their souls' before they die. Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their life a mimicry."

Myself, I refuse to live in shades of gray.

what they don't tell you

What they don't tell you is that planning is meaningless -- standing alone, this life will kill you.

It's times like this that I wonder how people without a God to cling to can get by.

ugghhhh

I am annoyed.

Today was one big explosion of romantic tension.

First, my manager at work was wearing my ex-boyfriend's cologne. (And you know what they say about scent being the strongest-tied sense to memory.) Strike one.

Second, I had to work with Creepy Pizza Guy who won't stop flirting with me and asking me out, but in this really attitudinal, nasal sort of way. Strike two.

And then I come home and one of the last guys in the universe I wanted to see was at my house. Strike three.

To top it off, I've barely spoken to the one guy I actually want to talk to.

Awkward.

I am feeling very annoyed, indeed.

on abortion II

This is a follow-up to the anonymous comment left on my last entry about abortion.

The comment reads, "Abortion is like an eraser to your pencil, if you will. What happens when you're writing something and you mess up? You erase it! Same goes for little "mistakes" such as unwanted teen pregnancies. Why ruin a baby's life by bringing it into a world when it won't be properly cared for?"

But isn't that the same mentality as history's murderous dictators? "Erase the 'mistakes' that should never have been conceived?"

My point is that no human being, regardless of the circumstances in which it is born, is a mistake. Every life has a purpose, if we give it a chance to prosper. We can't run around snuffing out lives because we're afraid that they won't be "properly cared for." If that truly is your belief, we may as well euthanize all of the children in the foster care system. Clearly, they might not be properly cared for either.

Many great things have come from people who had difficult childhoods. If they had simply been "erased"...think of all the things on which humankind would have missed out.

Moreover, I am all for protecting the choice of a woman, but once she has made the choice, there is nothing to protect. Once the choice is made, we must, first and foremost, protect the ones who cannot voice their own feelings.

Of course we must protect those born into difficult circumstances! I just never even imagined that death could be considered protection.

too true

"Television is the first truly democratic culture - the first culture available to everybody and entirely governed by what the people want. The most terrifying thing is what people do want."
-- Clive Barnes

i don't like the person i am sometimes

Lately I've been feeling like I've become an arrogant bitch to some people. I suppose fear brings out the animal in me.

Have you ever had one of those moments where something comes at such a perfect time that you just knew that God was behind it, desperately trying to speak to you? I had a moment like that on Sunday morning.

I've been thinking a lot lately about people, about my friends, about my non-friends ("enemies" is too strong a word; I have no enemies that I know of), about the people I like, and the people I dislike. Somehow I have logicked myself into believing that it is perfectly acceptable to ignore the people I dislike.

Benign indifference, you know?

Now I remember: benign indifference is not acceptable. "Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you." What an arrogant fool I am, to have convinced myself that some people are simply not worth my time. A fresh shot of humility is coursing through my veins. High school is over now. I am nearly a grown-up -- at least in the legal sense -- and once and for all, I am letting this resentment go.

There it is.

Clean slate.

my life in eras

Due to my perpetual dissatisfaction with the person I am, my life is constantly fueled by growth and change. Those who knew me five years ago know how different I am today. Those who know me today may well find me very different five years from now.

June 2nd marked the end of an era that taught me many things, an era that I appreciate for the things it taught me, but do not miss. August 21st marks the beginning of the next, hopefully greater, era of my life.

August 21st...the date seemed so far for so long. My dreams and hopes of many years are finally materializing before my eyes, and yet, realizing that they are less than a month away, I am frightened for the first time.

The future looms ahead of me like a wall stretched across the horizon, and I must try to find my very own door somewhere along the wide expanse.

Success is pressing its nose against my window, but do I have the ambition, or even the ability, to capture it?

Do I dare?

true friends

Why do some people find it so abominably rude that I don't go out of my way to befriend people I don't like?

I am not obligated to bestow affection on someone. That is something one should do because one wants to. Which is not to say that I'm going to be a jerk to someone because I don't like them -- I will be completely cordial -- but in my opinion, that sort of sycophantic, plastic friendship is just plain dishonest.

I try to treat people the way I would like to be treated, and from experience I know that I, at least, am far more hurt by fake people who insult my intelligence by pretending to be my friend -- when I'm fully aware that they don't actually care about me -- than by people who dislike me quite openly.

My self-esteem is unaffected by the latter. My world is not going to crash down upon me because someone admits that they do not like me. I know myself, my achievements, and my true friends, and nothing anyone says can make me forget them. It's not cockiness, only confidence. Why would I want to be friends with someone I know is going to trash me later? If you think I am rude, snobbish, or other choice words, feel free to say it. You are wrong, but then, a lot of people are.

To make a long blog short, I am through with trying to please everyone. In the end, it only displeases me. Quality of friendship is vastly more important than quantity. This is my life, and I'm not about to waste it rubbing elbows with people who aren't worth my time. Perhaps I have pushed people away this past year, but honestly, I don't miss them, and I've only gotten closer to the people who actually care about me.

Life is not all sunshine and roses, and it is silly to try and paint it as such through falsehood or self-delusion. The truth is not always pleasant, but it is liberating. I know who my true friends are, I love them, and I trust them with my life. Some may see me as harsh, but without such discretion, I don't think I would be capable of such trust.

i'm in d minor

What is it about this summer heat that always gets me so depressed?

I've written a lot today.

nonsense

Some people.

Put what they want and need right in front of them, and every time, they turn around and choose something else that is completely wrong for them.

For simple ignorance, there is forgiveness. For willful ignorance? Never.

There is no hope for these people.

Don't even try.

kindness

I think we should try something new.

Well, not new, but it needs to become a trend. The next time someone does something nice for you, even without knowing they did it, tell them how much you appreciate it. Return the smile that they put on your face.

Just think how many more people would smile if we would only spread the love.

Or as the saying goes, "Do unto others..." and you know the rest.

:)

religion

It is most unwise to discuss religion in public, unless it is with close friends or people who agree with you -- or the rare individual who can actually agree to disagree and not simply pretend to do so -- so I will discuss it here.

If my opinions offend you, well, my deepest sympathies. They are still my opinions.

:)

Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting on my front porch, braving the morning chill and watching the sun rise. In my hand, I held a cup of coffee made in my mini-French press, which was given to me by one of the dearest people ever to appear on this earth. The sky was a perfect powder blue and vivid orange, the grass and trees a rich green, and I found myself feeling surrounded by evidence of a Creator. Blessings, be they in the form of a beautiful sunrise, a loved one or a cup of coffee, do not happen by random accident.

Look at New Guinea's birds of paradise, for example.


Could function and art be so deftly combined without a Designer? I don't think so. I am the first to admit that I do not understand everything around me, but basic logic tells me that one cannot throw cosmic dust and four billion years into a blender and pour out such absolute perfection.

It occurs to me that atheism requires more blind faith than any other religion. Thinking that humankind can fully comprehend a universe that it did not create is, frankly, as absolutely absurd as a baby asking its siblings where it came from rather than its parents. What utter arrogance, for a human being to think that he or she can effectively fathom and control the world, thus shafting the One who created both! Should the invention abandon its Inventor? Never.

Picture evolution in a casino. The odds are a million to one to get the desired effect. What are the chances that our world could be the one jackpot, out of so many other failures? I suppose there is the tiniest chance, where the comparison falls apart a bit, but honestly, what sensible person would gamble eternity on such a chance? To this, I say, the House always wins.

In such arguments, I am a firm supporter of Pascal's Wager. If I am wrong, and there is no God, I have lost nothing. If they -- atheists, I mean -- are wrong, well, in simplest terms, they are screwed.

And yet, according to them, I am the ignorant one.

Hmm.

impatience

I am feeling incredibly out of sorts.

Today has not been a very pleasant day.

A lot of things have frustrated me today.

The fact that I am so ineffably impatient to move to Chicago is not helping. At the risk of sounding like a spoiled American, I am so tired of being in the suburbs, it puts me on the verge of physical illness.

No specific thing has really made me tremendously upset -- it is only a buildup of things -- but I think a good cry will make me feel better.

a most earnest prayer

May I never be so engrossed in what I think -- or, well, in the case of which I am speaking, what others think -- that I purposefully taunt or ignore my own family.

It is a sad thing, indeed, when belief becomes so radical that one cannot stand the presence of those who do not share it.

It is sadder still when one thinks that his semi-coherent rants are more important than sharing in the lives of his family.

But clearly, they are saving the world.

How arrogant of him!

Passion and zeal, when well-channeled, can be so positive. But when that passion and zeal are misguided, what disaster!

I miss my uncle for who he used to be.

I am sad that he never knew me.

But now it is too late.

romance II

The nerve of some people. Keep a budding romance mum, and they will be mad at you for it, as if it is their right to know everything, whether or not it is any of their business.

Romance itself is not awkward. Other people make it so.

I think if I was a celebrity, I would be the kind who throws stuff at paparazzi, if only to get a moment's privacy.

For now, though, I will simply retain composure and refuse to share details of my personal life.

The best things in life should be kept secret. I don't care if you think it is selfish that I've discovered something special and I'm not tripping over myself to share it with you.

Let all the gossips go to Greenland -- we'll save Iceland for ourselves.

frustration

Please don't make me cry,
Please don't make me cry,
I'm just like you,
I know you know I'm just like you,
So leave me alone.

I think I am too complex of a person or something. People who have known me for years still don't seem to have any idea what actually goes on inside my head. Is it possible for one to be so complex, she appears a simpleton?

I am not even that complex.

I am just me.

And yet, only one person besides God and myself seems to understand that.

I make a lot of sense, if you open your mind beyond what you think I am. Step outside yourself and your immediate reactions. Recognize your own faults before you go searching for them in others.

And regardless of the degree to which you understand or don't understand me, I am not going to change myself simply on account of your misinterpretation or overreaction. Don't make an incident out of nothing -- that is your problem, not mine.

I am a very private person, so don't feel entitled to all the details of my personal life, and don't act so shocked if I am miffed about being bothered about it.

It is not my job to heal your insecurities or to become what you think is right. It is not your place to tell me that I am wrong, especially when it is so obvious that you don't even know what is going on inside my head.

You say I need to think before I speak, but you're wrong. Perhaps you should think before you judge.

After all these years, you should know better than to have judged me so poorly.

on abortion

I am sick and tired politically correct nonsense.

A baby in the womb is still a baby. It is not a negotiable thing.

The only exception is when it is medically necessary. Otherwise, killing a baby is murder. Again, it is not a negotiable thing.

That is all.

this is what i think

In my opinion, one can never be too opinionated. Indeed, one should live with conviction. The term "overzealous," I think, was invented by people who are simply too weak or lazy to stand up for what they think.

The one thing I will not say when I die is that I did not live with passion. I am not afraid to come out and say what others won't simply because it is unbecoming.

It is better to be thought brash than to not be thought of at all.

If you think I am rude or hypocritical, I am sorry to have offended you, but perhaps you should remember the times when you have been equally rude or hypocritical.

If I believe something, I will speak it, I will fight for it, and I will not apologize for it.

nascent and new

Okay, okay, so the title is redundant...but it's also alliterative.

It is June 2.

Today marks the end of this phase of my life, as well as the beginning of the next.

Today, I wear stoles and cords and pins and badges to mark my achievements so far. I wear them all with pride, for I have worked hard for the things I have achieved. Yet I am venturing into a world greater than what I have previously known, where these achievements are nothing, and I am starting fresh. Out there, I am not Erin Smith, Thespian of the Year. I am not Erin Smith, only All-state level soprano in the school district. I am not Erin Smith, winner of the James Iddings Award, the National School Choral Award, the North Park Music Honors Award, graduating with high honors.

I am simply Erin Smith, and I am starting fresh.

In less than three months, I am to stand on my own two feet, without the careful guidance of those around me who love and protect me.

Most of me is ready to take on this new journey. And yet, a part of me still feels like a child. Does one ever reach a point where that inner child grows up? Does one ever completely become an adult? Or will there always be that part of us that, despite the pointy shoes and pinstripe suits and briefcases that make us look so distinguished, is just playing dress up?

Somehow, childhood slipped away without my noticing. Can I still cry on my mother's shoulder after a bad day? Am I still Daddy's little princess? Can I still be that precocious little girl, spinning stories, singing songs and drawing pictures, never asking for directions, only creating?

The future looms ahead of me like a wall stretched across the horizon, and I must try to find my very own door somewhere along the wide expanse.

It is a scary thing, because I am not really that good at navigating.

I suppose I will just have to hand control over to One who knows better than I.

multifaceted

I realized today that some people, even people who have known me for years and years, don't understand me at all beyond an extremely superficial level.

déjà vu

Have you ever had an emotion from your past just come back without warning and whack you in the stomach like a bag of rocks?

Scary.

I can't sleep for contemplation.

metaphorical ambiguity?

There's a figurine of a dog that sits on my shelf. It's been around for awhile, kind of like an old friend. Sometimes I take him for granted and neglect him, and other times I somehow remember to look and appreciate this little guy that's been with me for so much of my life. Occasionally, I notice something about him that I hadn't noticed before. Perhaps this old dog can teach me a new trick sometime.

fatigue

I find it difficult to think about my life right now. It's always been my goal to define myself by myself, and not by what I do. But it seems as though what I do is so intricately tied into my very being that there is no longer any separation between the two.

Is this the rut we all fall into? Are we simply fated to become so busy with what we do that we forget who we are?

I hope not.

My worries and fears have become my friends, and they keep on smiling at me.

wittiness

This quote pretty much sums me up:

"She had a pretty gift for quotation, which is a serviceable substitute for wit."
-- W. Somerset Maugham

:)

On another note, I got a way better job at Garibaldi's. Serving Italian food (as opposed to grease) and for more money. Pretty happy about that.

senioritis

Disclaimer: this is an unhappy entry, written while frustrated at 3:35 a.m., which is never a good state of being or time at which to contemplate life. But I am going to write anyway.

I am so done with high school.

I just don't do the whole "high school" thing.

For one thing, half the people I spend my days at school with don't even seem to like me very much. There is this huge, impenetrable clique, and with the exception of a few people, I am, despite my best efforts, always feeling like an outsider. Then again, as Oscar Wilde wrote, "to be popular, one must be a mediocrity," so perhaps I shouldn't feel so bad.

I suppose I should be sorry for wanting to be a part of a group, of whose plastic insincerity and utter tackiness I am totally aware, that is just so completely full of how awesome they think they are. Just like the education system, it is mediocrity on a sparkly pink rhinestone pedestal. Many times I look at all their self-indulgence and camera-whoring and wonder why I even want to be a part of it.

But I am reminded of yet another Oscar Wilde quote: "Never criticize society. Only people who can't get into it do that." Am I completely delusional? Am I the one isolating myself? It still hurts me sometimes that I am not "a part of the group."

The whole clique thing? Bullshit. I wish people would get real and stop being so fake all the time.

For another thing, I suddenly find people telling me I should feel bad about wanting something good for myself just because someone else wants it too. Since when is it my job to be doing the giving up? It's not my job to be making everyone else happy at my own expense. In other words, I would give up my life for my friends in an instant, but as long as I have my life, I will not give up my livelihood.

Is that selfish? But I don't think it is selfish. I am not obligated by law or religion to love anyone at all.

I've decided that my biggest pet peeve is people who are really bad at something and other people think they're amazing. Actually, it's the other way around. Let me rephrase: my biggest pet peeve are the people who think mediocrity is amazing. On the annoying scale, it's right up there with odd numbers and invisible zippers, or at least in my book.

I'm beginning to feel as though I don't have a place in this world. I watch people around me get ahead when they lie and cheat for it or just flat-out don't deserve it, and I wonder, is this how everything is? Is there any place left in this world for a person with integrity?

Prom is Friday, and my dress is not yet complete. And I ask myself, why should I be stressing out so much about Prom? Who decided it was some sort of sacred rite of passage? I thought it was a recreational activity, not something that should be gnawing at me as if it's some life-changing experience. I mean, it's a dance. But hey, what do I know? I don't do the high school thing, after all.

College is going to be so much better than high school. I can scarcely contain my excitement. I think I will die of happiness, à la "Story of an Hour," when I finally get out of the burbs and into an intellectually stimulating environment.

North Park University is pretty much the coolest thing since sliced bread.

I'm going to be eighteen in three and a half months. That means that I can vote next year. And that means I'm voting for Obama. If Clinton beats him, I think I will burst an artery. She is too busy bad-mouthing the Bush administration (though it is very deserving of said bad-mouthing) to actually come up with good ideas. Quite frankly, I look at her as the only female candidate and think, "Come on, ladies! Is this the best we've got?!"

On the Republican side of things, Ron Paul is also a very good candidate. I was pleasantly surprised. It's a pity he won't make it past a more well-known name like Rudy.

Regardless, I'm still voting for Obama.

Now I'm just ready for some good debates, and not a long string of political soundbytes.

Wow. I wrote a lot. I think I'll get back to work, then.

my neck hurts

I wish you were here
So that you weren't somewhere else.

P.S. I'm so tired of sewing, I think I might gag.

loneliness

What is this, the third time you've ditched me?
The fourth? Fifth maybe? I've lost count.
And yeah, you say you'll make it up to me,
And you might even go out of your way a little bit to do so,
But my point is that
You try awfully hard
To do a half-assed job of trying hard,
So I don't know if I could commit to you
If you try so hard to only half-commit to me.
I need to know if you'll ever find time for me,
Because if you won't,
Then I'm not about to waste my time
With someone who clearly doesn't want anything to do with me.
You know what's most ridiculous about the whole thing?
You've been telling me you have feelings for me for about two years now,
But apparently they're not strong enough
To motivate you to get up and do something,
Just enough so that I know that you care,
Because your word means nothing to me anymore.
You make too many promises you can't keep for me to trust you, and
I'm not going to waste another opportunity over you,
Not when this clearly is going nowhere,
And I don't even want it to, because
You like that other girl better anyway.
Enjoy her before she moves away,
And I'll be happy for you because
I don't want anything to do with you anymore.
I only regret wasting so many tears
And losing so many opportunities for happiness
Because of your cruelty, indifference and indecisiveness.
But what is done is done, and my regrets give me the strength to say
That I am done waiting around for you.
You had two years.
Two years, I have waited for you.
I offered you my heart on a platter,
And you threw it into storage,
Taking it out only when you didn't want to feel alone,
Unmoved by how lonely your indifference made me.
But now love has hit me in the stomach like a bag of rocks,
So don't tell me you don't have time to spend with me
And then go be with her
And then tell me you still have feelings for me.
You really should step back and think about what you say to me sometimes,
Because you seem to be completely unaware
Of how outrageously hypocritical you are sometimes.
It's no wonder you've spent so much time with fickle girls;
They're drawn to you because you're just as fickle.
You seem like such a good person sometimes,
But you're fake,
Just like the rest of them.
Stop stringing me along.
I'm done with you.
You're not worth my time.

There it is.

I've decided.

ch-ch-ch-changes

A consistent voice can go sore overnight.

A strong relationship can be destroyed in a matter of days.

Even the most peaceful place can be ripped apart by a single vagrant in two hours.

Isn't it scary how quickly things change?