How far can you run and for what?! How much can you twist and shout and fight and stamp your foot on the ground?! How many years of wars against the wind before you just let go?
I am that kind of person that can always find more and more and MORE resources and solutions and I pride myself for solving any given problem. It's how I became, it's what "they" made me! But how many times do you need to hear "YOU DON'T BELONG HERE!!!" before you finally turn around and accept defeat?
And truthfully it's not even defeat! It's just you moving on! It's just you flying in the wind like a dandelion seed! I cannot fight anymore, or I just don't want to. I'm not failing myself, I'm just accepting new options. Life does not have to be one fruitless struggle after the other, or so I believe at this moment, with buckets of tears pouring out of my eyes again.
There are so many things out there, why do we hang on so desperately to one passion, to one dream? Does it really make us happier people or better persons in any way or is it just the feeling of doing the right thing (what sort of notion is that anyway?) is it just the victory of defeating the odds once more? Well what if the odds are not there to beat?! What if Orwell's character got it right, just before the end and the Big Brother's eyes really do show love? Don't you pity him for not seeing it before, for giving up what could have been a quiet life, and for what? For stress and torture? Just to be clear I'm not talking here about the idea of the individual and 1984's society and all that, I'm simply talking about a man fighting the rotation of the world and not getting anywhere with it.
Me and my puffy eyes are going to sleep now. I don't know yet what I will do afterwards. Will I live and let die, will I sign a Do Not Resuscitate order in my sleep, or will I regenerate yet again and rise like some sort of perverted phoenix, not from burning ashes but from salty water and fight another battle. I don't know, and I despise not knowing...