Dividends of the Psyche, Matters of the Heart.
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Misgivings.
9.13.2011 || 1:48 AM
For once, I abandoned the "literary necessity" to write as if I'm being published. My peak reality. Don't expect much of... such. --Disclaimer, --C. Sweet.
Pain.
The love of my lifetime. Six feet beneath the earth, yet flying free in the Heavens, simultaneously. Years since, I've been dragged through wringer after wringer, against my heart's will. In order to forget. Not to, literally, forget. But to obey the will of my maker, to find love hereafter. Success, unachieved. Painfully.
I've fed, clothed, housed,
loved, suffered at the hands of, produced for, and IMMENSELY satisfied... yet have
never seemed to be enough.
I've resorted to often turn the blame, thus, onto myself. I never could fathom the theory of "giving too much", and attempted to give more of myself, when all went wrong.
I am far from insecure; but, as God continues to prove, I am nothing more or less than human. I feel. And, as an avid (and proud) Earth sign, I absorb. Everyone's everything.
Too much is insignificant to that is in easy reach; all of the things I hold dear are not as near as I wish them to be. I'm uninspired, and it's (in my opinion) my own fault. I've invested less time in my art, and most of it into saving souls that had no desire to be saved. I'm living until I die, but for the wrong reason
(s). I'm not living for me.
I'm not living for my deeply-rooted faith. My habitual, undying faith.
I'm living amongst myself, amongst my faith; and only alongside my music and my art, but not
FOR or
THROUGH it.
I have ceased to contribute to the world what God has given me to showcase -- just donated it to people losing theirs -- my heart. All I've ever been able to gift wrap without regretting sending it off and normally never getting back was (and always has been) my heart.
For this, I've gone through my periods of mourning: denial, anger, sorrow, self-pity, and acceptance... even a sense of peace...
And now my space is vast, lonely, and... sad. My utter and loud refusal of being sacrificed in any emotional way once I've devoted myself to someone has yet to waver, because I don't believe that my worth is, well...
WORTH... sacrificing... in order to have anyone. One that values me most would never request I sacrifice such a thing.
I deserve more than simply being "built" and able to "bounce back".
When will I be loved without self-sacrifice? I don't really feel I was born to be a
martyr.
"Maybe you like it. Well, I don't.
And maybe you'll settle. Well, I won't." --Beyoncé.