how do you know if your life is tragic? are no lives tragic, and only the listeners of each story who narrow mindedly call other lives tragic?

i find stories where one person wishes to give another an endless supply of love and praise... or maybe moreso praise than love? admiration? who knows... love has never been perfectly defined... and the other person blocks all of this love... allowing only shards of what could be, to become... but love is a vicious little thing, isn't it?

so, a relationship is a choice? because i swear to you it ain't fluffy and pink... but is it as not as i think? i'm confused, and not sure... unwilling to further investigate.

it's funny how feeling so much can numb a person to feeling only a shadow of what they once felt. or, do they just start lying to themselves... for protection, preservation.... and secretly feel every single bit of what they always did?

if it's a choice, then it's understood that choices are made, yes?

a relationship can shine a mirror on you. you see things in yourself you never ever dreamed were there... dark things, bright things... which, so i am told, if allowed to exist (and they must be...) are beautiful.

...ahh.. deep thoughts. tonight i drink tequilla and think of a billion things. i am alone tonight, and listening to strong music...

thinking of what all is in my head that needs to come out (amoung so many other things... i am told i'm also a writer... so things must want to come out, yes?)... but so much of the same comes out, that i know i must still wait for what else is inside to reviel itself.

"instead of a spit in the eye, i tear out my heart." - p. griffin