I wished to push my own limits. Harder than ever before. When people ask me why I chose this path, I answer, "because it sounded like a challenge." Now, I stare the ugly reality of my decision in the face. The gut-wrenching feeling of doubt envelops me. The terror of the possibility of failure chokes my breath and cuts down my confidence. It lurks in the back of my mind, pervading every thought, lining the shadows of every smile. I hate the feeling for sucking the joy out of my life; I have not truly enjoyed anything in a while. I can never relax or feel at ease. And yet..... at the same time, I welcome the terror, drawing it closer to me, feeling the warm blood run from fresh wounds as it sinks its teeth into my mind and soul. I watch it rip shreds in my ego and my self-esteem, and I draw the feeling closer still. I see the fibers of my being fray and tear as the terror works its way into the deepest reaches of my subconscious, and still I draw it in, relishing the feeling of my own self-destruction.... standing in awe of what lay ahead for me. For within destruction lies creation, building myself anew from the pieces left behind.. far more beautiful and infinitely stronger than that which came before. Who am I? What am I made of? Am I weak? Am I strong? Will I be tossed aside by the torrential winds, or will I weather this storm? My limits are not just being pushed.. they are about to dissolve in a brilliant cascade of flames.
Eyes and mind open.. To whatever end may come.

To capture and tame something wild.. Oh, how men have sought to lay claim to that which roams free. For therein lay no greater challenge, no conquest more delicious and sweet, than finding something beautiful, and locking her in a cage. If the hunter has a tigress within his grasp, and while forcing her into his cage, she rears her fangs and wounds him deeply, who is to blame? The tigress, or the hunter longing to possess her?
You find me so precious because I am untamed, because I roam free. If you subject me to a cage, blame me not for the wounds you shall bear..

When I ended this blog, I did not intend to continue posting. Unfortunately, I needed an outlet which I was otherwise unable to find. The quality of my posts never rebounded from almost year ago.. While a broken heart usually inspires and channels creativity, a tired soul does not. Nor is the recovery easy. It's been nearly a year and I still feel the anger. The hopelessness. The general inability to take care of others, to give love where needed, to receive it openly. I'm broken, truly. I reached out to savor experience, aware of but ignoring the warnings my instinct felt, yearning desperately to feel loved and needed. The cost was more than I could bear. Now, all that is left is the empty shell of my former self.
Avoid those who seek self-fulfillment through their interactions with others. I was one of them. Only now do I see the danger of relying to heavily on others to determine self-worth. Even worse, I've seen the effects of people who make it their goal to achieve some kind of self-actualization from other people.. More often than not, those people are the liars, the players, the manipulators, the self-inflated megalomaniacs of the world. The good people are the ones who enjoy the company of others but do not make it their goal to actively seek it. The good people are the ones who have something to show for their lives and accomplishments. As for me, all I have left now is the slow process of rebuilding and setting my priorities straight. My love is true; don't take that for granted..

Determine how much you're worth, and never, ever settle for less.

If you think that you're not worth much, ask yourself why, and work on making yourself worth something.

If you think that you're worth a lot, then spend every day SHOWING it by treating others, and yourself, with respect.

My posts over the next few months will probably not be very bright or optimistic. I apologize for the departure from what is usually my outlet for expression and positive energy... Instead, I fear that doubt and frustration will consume the majority of what I'm feeling. Fortunately I'll only need to suffer for another 3 months. After that, my path will be clear, one way or another. Until then, my usually bright, sunny exterior will be lined with shadows..

My love is vengeance that's never free.

We struggle against the pain, the hate, against the ebb and flow of madness which envelops us at every step. We push on against the flood of negativity.. resisting the urge to let go as our hearts and minds become weakened, battered mercilessly by the waves crashing down.. resisting the urge to victimize ourselves, to take the easy way out, to surrender what little truth and beauty we hold dear. 
Tonight I mourn the loss of those with whom I once walked, whose hand I clutched as we together stood strong against the tides, until I watched them become weak, overcome by hatred and pain, and then slip away... Here I stand, in the wake of the fragments of beauty abandoned, and wish dearly to touch your face once more. 

His shadowed eyes descended upon her, scrutinizing her cold, pale face. Sauntering toward her, he jeered.
"When did life lose the magic?"
Solemn eyes blinked, distant, as if coming out of deep thought, then focused on him, taking in his sarcastic smirk. A ghost of a smile, a remnant perhaps of another time, touched her own lips, then vanished.
"Life didn't lose the magic. We're just looking in the wrong place."

When you measure time in centuries, not days, the slow procession of each moment becomes unbearable.

Time and again.. life has cut through my confidence and challenged me with lessons of temperance and patience. Neither of these qualities suit me at all, and yet, here I stand once again, bearing their weight against the unrelenting tides of my volatile nature. 
Consumed with doubt, I allowed myself to believe the worst, and in the process, I nearly committed the very crime I feared. As a friend recently told me, we're smart enough to convince ourselves of anything, no matter how incorrect it might be. I stand humbled once again. 
And.. it's so easy to forget how much others rely on you, when you're busy dealing with your own problems. We don't even realize it, but the fabric of life for the people close to us has become inextricably interwoven with our own. The severing of one thread can unravel that fabric in ways we can't begin to imagine. So much more may depend on you than you realize. And once again, my compulsive desire for self-destruction is tempered only by my love of witnessing growth and beauty and strength in those whom I hold dear.