They say that you only realize the value of things only after you lose them, be it people, objects, privileges or just certain aspects of your life, such as perhaps, a relationship, family or school. Sure, its overused, and some might even put it up as cliche, but lets all be honest.
Things are cliche because they're true to an extent. If its used by so many, then it can be said to be some sort of philosophy, no? Something judged by many people over many decades, if not centuries, of the same expressions being used repeatedly in the same context. Some part of it must be truth, if not all.
And recently, I have lost something dear to me. Perhaps due to circumstance, perhaps due to how pathetic I was. Maybe I didn't treasure the moments. Or a good mixture of everything, really.
But none of it matters anymore; Its already happened. No point fretting and bawling about it, really. Only one thing matters; To move on.
Life ain't going to end anytime soon. And time isn't going to wait for my sorry, depressive ass to take its time to get up on my own two feet to walk the distance of my life. Its going to move on and on, relentlessly, no matter how many times I fall, or how hard I fall. Uncaring of whether my heart was shattered, my ego bruised, or self-esteem flushed down the sewers. Time will go on, apathetically, forever.
Well, until this soul of mine is snuffed out by some unnatural accident or natural causes, at least. I wouldn't be able to notice time if I'm dead.
I don't have many motivations, or do I have any aspirations or dreams.
I just want to live. Find my purpose or calling in life.
One step at a time.
Oh, one more thing.
Happy Valentines' Day, motherfuckers.
