As the clock strikes *digitally goes off* at 2:30 in the morning, I reluctantly rise to another day of mundane labor; however, it is good to note here that I have not had any major, debilitating episodes/moods in an ENTIRE EIGHT MONTHS, so one late night/abstractly, early morning is OK: adjusting to being and feeling normal for once in this disaster of an existence is by and by a modest measurement of progress in my eyes. Seems like before this ‘fair’ period (fair, as in, fair isn’t a fair enough word to accurately describe this period of time) I used to be chasing illusions; some grand Sirens which led me to misery; especially that one hue of a sunset in a dream about love; or, for lack of euphemism, the obsessions with artificial PEAKS of diminutive greatness, or, just plain *h i g h s* — all these trivial pursuits only really ever succeeded in wasting time, wasting air, wasting light, but above all wasting life -— and, at night, in those miserable days, I would say this, nearly repeatedly, but if not, always every night for over a year and a half. In some listless reverie, I remember muttering, mumbling not believing and half-hopeless, half-hoping to pretend well enough to even survive, this white lie that turned sadly grey which was this; “it will all be better tomorrow — at least, God d***, I hope so.” This, unfortunately, is no testimony for my faith; instead, it is the testimony of my faith for perseverance — and this ‘grit’, whether genetic or learned, which has given me the strength to accept * A N D * believe wholeheartedly that I can, am able, to overcome, surpass these difficult, trying curveballs which Lady Luck/Mistress of Misfortune have flung in my path. As I am oddly a sort of cryptic, skeptic with religion and such related ideas, it is strange to have FAITH, but to have faith in something only means you adamantly, devotedly believe in SOMETHING or SOMEONE, and, today of all days, in this peculiar time of night/day-disparity, I at long last, have faith in MYSELF; with time, strong beliefs in other, perhaps more diverse, controversial concepts/philosophies/etcetera, will fall into place with the proper foundation in which to build these opinions off of — SELF. Like Tyler said, “Self-knowledge is self-preservation…”, or, something to that effect. “I sing the song of myself
***I didn’t mean to wake from slumber to rant to a community of friends, acquaintances, writers and so on whom will N O T care, but just in one of a thousand epiphanies, I realized I am the reason I am still here, and, doing spectacular: I am the reason my life is **(rad),(bad),(sad),(and, etcetera)**; I am the catalyst to change, to happiness, to greatness — the beginning and end to any idea I accept/reject, quit on/pursue. I am captain of the vessel of Self, with wind, an unchangeable force at my back, and Hope, the brain’s clever mechanism for higher rate of survival, which, has allowed for me to S U R V I V E, T H R I V E, though, most of all, be content, pleased with just stopping and being A L I V E ! ! !