I ask myself, "Why am I in holes without you."

Rubik - Richard Branson's Crash Landing. Lyrics here: http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/3530822107858786508/

Say to yourself, "just right."

I don't know where to start, and I haven't for a long time. I think, and think, and think, that I'm never going to get anywhere, and here I am now. I go with the flow, to whatever feels good, but I never know why. Why can't I know? Why can't we know? Who says we can't know? I don't know, but it's worth a thought. It's worth the time and effort, so here we go until we stop, until we die, until we move on, until we forget...until we reset and rest; I can only live here and now; I live with what I have, and live with what I have not. I don't have everything, and I don't want everything. I just want what I want, and what I want is to be happy. Happiness is what I need to live, so I told myself to do so, to just do right. I told myself that I wasn't going to stop until I was happy, and I haven't stopped so far. I don't think I could bare the failure, the utter sense of abandonment based on my one sole reason to live... just to take it all in, and then just draw it all out, and it is until the day I quit breathing that I will stop lathering up my mind and my tongue for the day, and quit spitting my existence onto paper striving for until I can't tell the difference between my own work or those considered "modern classics." How pity are my words compared to the worlds I want to create, because ponder has no limit; nor, do the words powered by the fires within my heart and my mind, bellowed by every breath I take of my forsaken continuance that I consider my life. It isn't until the day I die that I want to truly know rest, because I know what I have inside of me now, and I want to live for it all. I don't want to fall away into quite desperation before I have expressed every ounce of my drop to the ocean.

I'll pause here to insert a "note" I had written for myself, to be read on a later date... hoping that I could find and use, some future knowledge and encouragement from within it. And it goes:

"And I think to myself... 'Where was I, all those years? Who was I? What was I doing? What did I DO?"

And I wake up, with a new vision. A new... direction. It's possible that a purpose is necessary to live, but how should I know? I'm not God. But I have one, and I'm on track to be great.

"And I think to myself..."

I figured out by now, that this is all I am. Taylor Lee Travis. Do you know who I am? Do you truly? The short answer is no. I don't truly, fully understand myself... aka, all of my subconscious's desires and why and what drives them. All I do know, is there is no possible way you can Be me, feel the things I feel. You will never truly know how I deal with things, hell... even half of the things I deal with. Now this is by no means to say that I have one clue of who you truly are either, I'm just saying...you will always only cast sympathy to me; you can't feel my emotions, not really. I believe that we are just that for each other, sympathy. I don't shrink "life" into the word, "sympathy", but I feel that it is an important part of what makes our ego. It is what makes each of us, mourn, love, lust, sweat, cry, feel, bite, and do anything and/or everything in a different way. The only real catch is ourselves, hiding behind our walls, restricting our souls to express and share one another. If anything, that is humans downfall, true potential... we only tend to grasp for the selfish things these days. Materials. Needless to say an important part of our lives... but it is not the "goal" ladies and gentlemen. That is only the means, the tools... not the feeling at the end of the day, where you can't do anything but smile... and say, "I am happy." In that form, it is all to rare these days. Because we all know that we aren't really happy, we all have our holes. We all live, in some way, in "quiet desperation" that keeps us from expressing every sensation we feel. It all wants to come out, even though you doubt yourself. We never truly show our true colors, because we are constantly fighting and dealing with ourselves, and the whole outside world. It keeps us on guard. My own wars are the ones in my head, everyday...and while I am in my mind writing down what I think... I know it's never going to be enough. But I try... I try in a certain desperation I will never truly understand until the end. I will try against death to rid myself of the countless waste of weight I carry in my head, and on my shoulders. I will do my best to live my best, and the only person that could ever hold me back, is the one writing these words. And it's not until I stop and end, will I be happy... because that is when I know the mood is right, to die.

Live by your own desires, and never hold back.
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