True pain depends on who your talking to. For a 13 year old girl nothing is worse then your parents grounding you. When your 16 and the boy your in love with breaks your heart, that's pain. When your playing sports and break a bone that is pain. In the case of pain, to each their own. For me it's the non stop pain of having weak legs that have been screwed back together, that have been broken, and have suffered for my stubbornness. For almost 9 years I have had to bite down and deal with the pain... But nothing is more painful then realizing I can't be stubborn anymore. I realize if I had taken it easy all these years my legs would still be holding me up but I also wouldn't have proved the doctors wrong. I wouldn't have had a chance to feel what a good days work was like. I probably wouldn't have met my fiance if I hadn't been so determined to push past the pain and show off. But now what? Now I can't work on my feet at all. I can't stand up out of bed on my own without falling. The worst pain is asking for help for the simplest things. Having no self respect anymore. I'm too young to depend on someone the way I need to and it's painful to admit.


What I have learned in life is to never over work yourself for the sake of your pride. Always take your time if your unsure of the outcome. And never pretend that you understand someone else's pain. 


So tell me... What's your pain?

Have you ever just needed someone? Not sexually or because your in love. But because their your friend and your feeling alone. Or maybe your stressed out and just need to feel like someones got your back. Maybe things have gotten so crazy you've lost the will to go on. So you call them up and ask them to come by but their too busy for you. Then you try to coax them into coming by. Still it's a no... But do you ever stop to think if you told them the real reason you want them there that they just might be willing to come by? But how do you tell someone you need them? It seems like you'd be bothering them or that you'd seem weak. But if you don't tell them then the emptiness of knowing they couldn't make time for you when you needed them is much worse then seeming weak. The fact of the matter is that you only hurt yourself more if you let that type of thinking stop you from seeking help. If they are true friends it won't be an inconvenience to them to help you. In fact you may even discover that they need you too.

So here's what I'm saying, I need you and I need help. Because I feel alone, I'm depressed, and overwhelmed with my life. I am trying so hard to seem like I've got things figured out but I don't and it scares me. And I am weak but not because I need help, because I can't get myself to ask for it. So the next time I try to coax you into coming over to watch a movie or offering to buy you lunch it's not just because your my friend... It's because I need you.

I am

I am the product of dreams.

Of hot summer days outside

staring out at the sea.
Dancing on the beach with no shoes.
Of cool autumn evenings
lost in the storm of leaves.
Feeling the spirits move around me.
I am the product of imagination.
Of cold winter nights
curled up with an adventure.
Fire place heating my travels.
Of warm spring mornings
following white rabbits.
Lost in a dream and searching for myself.
I am the creator of fantasy.
I am the writer of my fate.
I am happily ever after
so long as I can imagine myself to be

If I were to say I hate my life it would be a lie. If I said I felt like it's unfair and cruel and filled with more stress and sorrow then it's worth, that would be true. But hate is such a strong word. I wouldn't say I hate the idiot driver that ruined my life or that I blame my circumstances on some false idea of a higher power. I would just say that shit happens. The trouble with shit is that it never seems to stop stinking. Even after you drop the load and walk away you can still smell it. Life is like living in the men's room at Dodger's Stadium. It smells like shit all day and then they clean it at night and you have a moments piece. Occasionally they put it off till morning or they don't do a good enough job so the smell is still there. In life we live everyday so that we can go home and hopefully have sweet dreams. Dreams save lives you know? They have saved mine more then once. 

In my quarter of a century on this earth I have learned one very important lesson, being alive is only measured by how much you live. The idea of spending the rest of my life at a job I hate just so I can pay bills seems like a waste. There's that word again... Hate. It rolls off the tongue. See I believe in placing blame where it's due and if I had to hate one thing in this world I know what it would be... Money. It's the only word more distasteful then hate itself. Seriously, if you had to narrow down all the problems in this world they would all go back to that nasty word money. Most people spend all their lives trying to make all they can so on their death beds they can smile at the non existent configuration of numbers. Money isn't even a physical thing these days. It's just numbers in a system that can be deleted.

But lets go back to a better word for a moment... Dreams. I love to dream. Day dream or night dream. It fills me with a sense of something wonderful. So few things genuinely have true wonder to them. That's why I hold all my dreams close to my heart, grasping that idea that anything is possible. But fulfilling dreams is a great deal harder. Because to pursue a dream you need money and I hate money.  So once again left alone in my own thoughts and trapped under the overwhelming weight of that word, money, I wonder if perhaps dreams are not to blame. Filling us with a false sense of purpose when the cruelty of money bars our way forward. I don't really know... All I know is without my dreams I would surely die, without money I will surely die. So I get to spend my life filled with hate. Hate for the unfulfilled dream. Hate for the cursed concept of money. And hate for feeling so hateful.