The Wrongdoings

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Yesterday afternoon I ran (drove) away to my safe place (see below).
This is the place I go to when I want to escape from myself. Sometimes when I want to find myself. Sometimes both happen at the same time.
Soothing.
When I got there yesterday, I realized I hadn’t been for months.
And I wasn’t feeling well at all yesterday afternoon.

If everything is disappointment after disappointment. If nothing good stays, it all goes away.
Or maybe I’ve been wrong all along and the only solution to stop collecting failures is that we shouldn’t be collecting at all.

When we are gone, all we leave behind is a big chunk of nothing, a huge room full of hollow, a pile of emptiness.
Maybe if anything is left, it is just debris on your way out.

Is it all worth it then? I can’t still see the point if you’re not leaving anything behind. And I am not leaving anything.

If I could only get a good for every wrong that I’ve received, I would be happy for a lifetime.

So I’m refusing to believe in destiny. I’m refusing to believe in karma. It can’t be right. But as I tend to tell myself every time lately: “it is the way it is”.

And that is going to have to be it, nothing more, nothing less.

(This post best read while listening to:
Nightmares by Band of Skulls)

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