be The Me, Myself, and I.
You'd think I'd get a trill dramatizing
my emotions in profound sorrow.
Acting-out like a big-baby in words.
But honestly, depression hurts.
For many years,
I was a lost-Soul with no-where to go.
Writing simply-described what made me feel
so wobbly and out-of-balance.
Living-the-moment.
It was no-way an accident that I was
to-be-on such a bumpy-road in this life-time.
I don't cry as much anymore.
Maybe because,
I've learned to put words on my sufferings.
The message to re-focus my direction.
Guess I'm growing-up.
I strongly-need somekinda philosophical-reasoning to all this.
So I juggled life's-challenges one-by-one
and gotta to know myself better.
Over-n-over again,
relationships were eating me-up inside-n-out.
Why wasn't it working for me?
A symptom of depression is solitude,
and THERE I UNDERSTOOD!
I understood I needed alone-time.
Like two-was-a-crowd!
No-interruptions to the conversations in my head.
I understanding takes-off alot of guilt.
Mega-to-defining my destiny.
Writing was the coming together of everything I am,
and everything I want to be.
And that's O.K. too!
p.s. Forty-something is maybe less about PROJECTS,
p.s. Forty-something is maybe less about PROJECTS,
and more about PASSIONS!
