A million questions I asked myself tonight. Not knowing if asking it to thyself is worth answering with every ounce of courage in your heart. Trying to seek truth in wisdom from oneself, yet rejecting acceptance from the sight.
These questions we ask ourselves over time are questions of nonsense justifications. We knew from the start we had answers to those questions that’s why we ask ourselves. The only problem or conflict would simply be accepting our own answers.
Reasons. Why do we keep reasoning when in fact our lapse in judgment got us into frisky situations with numerous damages yet push through with what we were never sure of?
Why do we keep reasoning with ourselves when we know from the start how it would end. That we know we let things happen. That we ask ourselves why it happened when we knew we let it happen. And why do we let things happen? Why do we think we lose control of the situation when in fact we were just lazy to control it?
The pain it brings. We ask why we get hurt when in fact we inflicted it on ourselves. Masochism? I doubt that. We just didn’t care about ourselves enough to actually choose not to get hurt. Not to carry the burden of the situation when we actually threw it on our backs without knowing the weight of it. Why do we actually do these to ourselves?
A million questions I ask myself. I ask myself knowing the answers but not man enough to suck up the pain. Not man enough to accept the answers to my own questions. Where is this going? I know I’m going in circles but I always tell myself I don’t know where this is going. I ask myself why I deserve to get hurt knowing I got hurt because I wasn’t sure of myself. Because I never really gave myself a chance, a chance to let myself grow in ways I knew how.
That missing piece, I’ve always known where to search for it but I never did. Instead, I searched in the wrong places. I searched for what’s missing in me, from somebody else. From other people who knew nothing about me. I searched for that missing part knowing where to look yet not searching from where I had to.
Pain. I actually have no grip in words to describe such emotion. Lies and deceit. Why do we tell ourselves we’re fine when in fact we’re not in any way near fine? Do we really have to lie even to ourselves? Do we really have to do it to ourselves to mask not being able to accept the simple truth that we are not okay? What about the times when people call us names and we get angry? Like for example, when someone calls us superficial and we get angry. Why? Why when in fact we know deep down inside that we really are?
We look at the physical aspect at first and then work our way in when it wasn’t designed that way. And that we cannot accept not even to ourselves? Why do we end up masking who we really are when in fact it’s easier to accept the reality of it.
Complicated? No. things are easy. They’re never complicated. People make it complicated. We keep sulking on the drama when there’s actually nothing to be dramatic of. We simply are addicted to the attention we get from the drama. The fuel that burns our souls in ways we couldn’t explain.
Trust. Truth about trust. Simple. We can’t give trust because we can’t even trust ourselves. Believe it or not. That’s where it starts.
Now tell me. Do these things make us stronger? Or it just makes us try to manipulate our brains into thinking we’re getting stronger when In fact we’re cowards who can’t accept ourselves.
Maybe it just boils down to where to begin accepting ourselves. The real us.
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