MOVE

So for a really long time, I've been stuck in a really shitty transitional phase. The kind where teen angst is widespread, where you don't even know what you're mad about anymore. I was lost and I thought I knew, but I didn't. I got fat, went jobless, and wasn't in school. I have low self esteem. I tried to get motivated and failed. I tried to get help, but I realized, with the help of a really good read, I am the only one who can help myself. No one can relate to me, in turn, I can't relate to them. Everyone is on their life's journey, and this is mine. It seemed that life was everyone else's oyster but mine, Life looked bad; but life was no oyster for me; life is my boxing ring, the highest mountain, the coldest winter. It is going to spit in my face, knock me down, and bring me to my brink. I'm getting up and I'm fighting back and I am going to win and live the fuck out of it. That process doesn't happen overnight, and now I know, but at least I KNOW.

Life, I'm gonna make you my bitch.

-jason

Sleeper Hold

I just recently learned that I have no clue on how to write about myself. Does that mean that I don't know myself? I hate the holidays, I know that.

Anyways, I'm gonna give up on work, and just register for school and do that for now.

The Devil Inside

It's weird to just think about why you do the things you do. We look back at certain events and decisions in our life and just think, "huh, well that's normal." and then we think of the repressed memories and think, "why the fuck did I do that?". Do we really know ourselves the way we think do? We make mistakes, bad decisions, and ruin our life. But how many of those incidents were actually accidents? Which were on purpose?

My mind is just wandering.

-Jason