Being grown up, isn’t half as fun as growing up.

There are a few ways I can go with this: I'm always hurting to leave and help others, however I'm not really sure how to pursue that role, especially with national crisis even those in the motherland. I'm shaken still by the fact that some of my friends in different times could completely place blade in my back. I've found myself hurt because of finding out things about my family, those are my things, not to share. So I will say all of these have shaken me to the core...

I was left in a state of great shock many times, believing that everything was perfect/bliss, proving the adage, you know the one. It reminds me that no matter how much I know, and I'll play along and act like I may not know very much, I definitely find heaving gaps and bottomless pits in areas I couldn't see the brightest light destroy shadow in. I often times asked myself ,"Why me?" Simple question, simple answer ,"Life." I often times would think on strategies of my betterment. Many I still use. I rarely dive in too deep with people, as far as friendship and sharing is concerned, because we're a selfish race that many times doesn't get too worried about learning anything another being is going through or who they might be. Which sometimes bothers me, but much less now. I've learned that if I trust you and your mouth spits venom in regards to me with back turned, you can expect our bridge to be gasoline doused and burned with the cigarette I smoke to honor our new-found distance. I won't pursue effort, you will beg for forgiveness. In that manner I am mean, I don't claim to be a sweetheart most of the time.

When it comes to things I've learned about my family, I have to approach them with reality. I don't put sugar on it, I don't dance around to make them smile, because I need them to really grasp what they have. They don't know what their loss would do to me, but even the earthquake of Nepal wouldn't shake me nearly as heard as that. They always believe I'm tough on them and I am, I'm tough with love because others are cold with ignorance. Their presence means so much more to me than whatever this world they live in could construct. They aren't perfect, saints, top of their class in studies, or the best decision makers, but they are my blood and everything I know. So when I'm shaken here, I let them know exactly what can happen and exactly how I feel, and that although it's their life, there will be levels of respect lost if they don't make changes, and respect is a token hard to earn from me.

In order to rebuild myself these several times, I have used the anger I have to help create the physical shield, at one time sculpting my form to prevent injury, to assure others, there was no way to injure the mental or psychological state I was in also. To rebuild otherwise, I used to drink to forget many things, which never worked. At times I experimented with various other drugs to pick up my mood and help me appreciate the world around me, which worked briefly. Now, I continue to force myself to quit writing things down and forget them and instead put fingertips to keyboard and extrapolate my mind's work. It isn't something you'll find archived in the greatest of writings, it isn't something that is clear and void of grammatical flaw and English misuse. It's what rebuilds my mind to become stronger each day. I read some works on here and find inspiration and appreciation that instead of agreeing to an emotionless dance on days and nights, that I can let these words breathe life to all of my inner-workings. Some more creative and flashy than others. I should probably return to my physical crafting so that I have things back in order and a more positive head-space, I'll just take it steady as she goes.