here we are, far from home

You must not trust me with information for I weaponize it too much.

I must do better because my father put me in a much more comfortable situation than he ever was in. I must fulfill his dreams, and then mine.

Unfortunately, the whole love thing will not work for me in this lifetime, even if I tried. It cannot be. Not with the thoughts that have grown with me regarding that matter. Such thoughts are almost as old as me and they are not leaving for they are inherent in my being and make up who I am. It is in another lifetime where romance will come, perhaps. The thought of such possibility is enough to satisfy what I shall lack in this life regarding that aspect. It must suffice, anyways.

I have been to many beautiful places and recognize them to be so in the moment. It is only after visiting, however, when I realize the true magnitude of their beauty. Why is that?

Having this horrid heart is not the only thing scaring me. What if I had always been this way, and just did not realize it? All my life, I could have been the most cruel person, and I did not know.

To be the subject of a man’s lust is the same as being the subject of a man’s violence.

Must I live with such a rotten heart?

The world could not have been more cruel.

Everyone’s reading Martyr! but they don’t sell the book anywhere here

Love is violent. You can kill a plant by giving it too much water.

I live a good life, yes I do

While the sadness is overwhelming I cannot help but admit that the little hope I have left within me albeit minuscule is the only thing that is making me study. And maybe get up in the morning. I will be okay I just need to be honest with myself and tell the people around me what is going on. It is just difficult.