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I am
My Unkymood Punkymood (Unkymoods)
Without You
Sunday. 2.7.10 1:49 am
It's been almost a year.

A year full of emptiness.
A year in which I've managed to fool everyone but myself that I'm okay. A year in which many have grown to believe I can handle things by myself. A year where people have grown to give me enough space, enough space for me to fall apart by my self..

I'm in utter desperation. But I have no clue in which direction to turn or who's counsel to take. Everyone's quick to give it these days. Advice falls like rain in Seattle. And just as consistently, does not listen.

Truth is:
I'm no where near financially stable.
I have no real familial support, but judgement instead.
I don't have a clue on what to do with my life but can no longer afford to.
I thought I knew what chains of responsibility where. ...I had no clue.
Hardly anything comforts me anymore.

I've reached the end of my rope.
I have run as far as I can and have found a dead end.

Is there any real hope?

I just wish I had someone's arms to lay in. Someone to tell me it'll be allright and even if it's not, those arms would still be there no matter what, offering comfort and hope.

God, I miss her.
Mama, te extraño tanto...


1 Comments.


This actually applies more to your Captain Hook entry
What the heart of the young man said to the psalmist:

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!--
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

---Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
» Zanzibar on 2010-02-07 04:35:21

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