Everything is more complicated than you think.
Everything is more complicated than you might think.
You only see a tenth of what is true.
You only see a little bit of the truth.
There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make.
Every decision you make drives thousands of relationships in motion.
You can destroy your life every time you choose.
You can choose to ruin your life at any time.
But maybe you won't know for 20 years and you may never, ever trace it to it's source, and you only get one chance to play it out.
But maybe you won't understand it in twenty years, and you may never be able to trace it back, and you only have one chance to get it right.
Just try and figure out your own divorce.
Try to figure out your marriage.
And they say there is no fate, but there is, it's what you create.
Everyone says that there is no so-called destiny, there are only things you create.
And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second.
Even as the world turns year after year, you're just a tiny fragment of that second.
Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born, but while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes, or it seems to, but it doesn't really.
You spend most of your time after or before you are alive, but when you are alive, you just wait in vain, wasting decades waiting for a call, a letter, or a meeting from someone or something Reassure yourself that it never happens, or seems to happen, but it really won't.
So you spend your time in vague regret, or vague hope that something good will come along, something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved.
So again you take the time to vaguely regret, or vaguely hope that something good will happen next, that makes you feel that you are not isolated, that makes you feel that you exist, that that makes you feel loved.
And the truth is I feel so angry. And the truth is I feel so fucking sad. And the truth is, I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long. And for just so long, I've been pretending I'm okay just to get along, just for…I don't know why.
But the truth is I'm angry, but the truth is I'm sad, but the truth is that I feel like I've been hurt for years and fucking years, and at the same time, I've been pretending I'm okay to adjust, but for... I don't know is why.
Maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery. Bacause they have their own.
Maybe it's because no one wants to hear about my misery, maybe because they have their own misfortunes.
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