Stop. And think

I realised there’s a lot of things I don’t really have control over, and yet feel sore over the fact that I can’t control them. It’s like trying to blame fate for bringing me to where I am today. No matter how much I try to defer that queasy feeling of regret, of all sorts, it still comes back to me and hits me with even more veracity than I thought. I’m just so baffled with what I am outside and within, and yet I fear to prod further, for fear that the salience of much truth will overwhelm my understanding of it all.

Am I losing too much of myself to the clutter of disbelief around me?

I think I need to get used to the form of catharsis I’m subjecting my emotions to. I keep thinking it’s wrong, especially when everyone else thinks so as well. I need to find that that balance, that fine-tune to my life that will make it all easier to say I’m alright.

I think I need to stop rambling. And start thinking about being a better me to everyone else.