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I've been complaining a lot lately, mostly about not starting everything I want to start. There's something in me that keeps holding myself back from my future. I guess it's normal to be afraid of moving forward. The unknown seems to scare mankind more than anything else. I think that's probably why everybody fears death. Who knows what becomes of us after our hearts stop beating? Do we just go underground and progressively become part of the earth? Do we keep living in a paradise? Or do we reform into a different shape or species and continue keeping the world turning?

I don't want to be so hard on myself anymore. I'm my own harshest critic. I always seem to find a way to crush something down that I've done and turn it into meaningless fragments. What I've done matters and has made a difference and I need to keep reminding myself of that. I need to stop beating myself over for what I've done in the past or what I haven't done in the past. I need to stop beating myself up for what I'm doing or not doing in the present. I already know one day I'll make such a dent in the world it'll be irreversible. It'll happen when it needs to happen and when it's supposed to happen. Who knows, maybe it already has... I can't get this time jump stuff straight, anyway.

So. I'm sitting here drinking the usual nasty coffee, and waiting for the next batch of serum to finish so I can test it and... I'm good. I honestly think I am. I'm feeling at peace, for once.

I guess I shouldn't say not feeling at peace is so bad, at least I'm feeling something.

I've seen too many people go apathetic in the face of things they can't stop or get a handle on, but that's not me.

Not anymore.


Feb. 26th, 2008 04:13 am (UTC)
I hope she's the kind of grandmother who baked.

I sometimes miss mine. She would make pies, and put them on the sill to cool.

I don't know anything about time, except this isn't mine. And neither is the place I go when I'm sleeping.


by ringosdiamond writing
Captain B. Pierce

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