Something has to change. EDITED [26 Nov 2007|01:02pm] [ music | Sigur Ros - Pista de audio 08 (Olsen Olsen) ] The break was pretty good. For Thanksgiving, we ate in the main foyer, and it was good, I guess. There were only 9 of us in the house… and that was the best part, trust me. I went on a day pass with Patrick and his family. At Best Buy I logged into myspace, and commented some of my friends. It was cool, I guess. EDIT: I am in big trouble for getting on myspace. I guess we aren't allowed to go on it on day passes. I haven’t slept very well for the past couple of days. I’ve been up all night thinking about the bridges I burned in the past. I’ve been thinking about all the damage I did to my body. Constantly jacked up on amphetamines – I can only imagine what that did to my heart. All the nights I passed out on the floor too fucked up to speak. That must have fucked up my liver quite a bit. And I still continue to smoke to this day - regardless of all the times I have stopped, I keep starting again. At least I don’t drink anymore. I used to smoke way more when I drank. Sometimes at night, if I lay a certain way, I can’t breathe. Sometimes my whole chest just hurts. I’ve never been sadder in my life. My shitty attitude isn’t going to work for much longer. Honestly. Either I get my spirits up, or I am fucked. “Sometimes I find myself staring out the window, afraid to die without truly living, but thinking that perhaps if that were to happen – I could be free. I am surrounded on all sides by majestic, white-capped mountains; mountains I will never climb, and snowy peaks I will never scale. As gorgeous as they may be, nothing could ever compare to the green, lush grasses that enveloped me as I slept next to my bicycle beneath the ancient Georgia oak trees. The hills that I effortlessly glided down on my bike are more breath taking than any cascading mountain range. The pale, clean moonlight that illuminates the sky here holds no comparison to the golden streetlights at home that once illuminated my SOUL. Sometimes I feel like attempting the supposed suicide of leaving and trying to fend for myself on the streets in the snow. I hear that it is suicide, but what does my heart say? Am I willing to risk my life for freedom? Always I ponder as I stare down from our balcony to Highway 93: What is living if you feel as though you were dead? On March 31, 2008, I am going to begin my walk down US Highway 93 North, and pick up my life where it left off. I will find my way home by any means necessary. I’m counting down the days. No fireside in-house meeting will ever warm my heart like the report card and cereal box fires we had in Christina's backyard so long ago. It may just be the snow, but my heart is getting very, very cold.” - August 19, 2007 I'm not going to walk out on my commitment. I can't. For myself, and for the ones I love. I need to finish this program. The only way I'm going to progress further is if I pull myself out of this pile of shit that I am sitting in. Things are not going well right now, but I'm determined - if I strengthen my program, I can do this. M83 - FAREWELL/GOODBYE 1 comment|post comment

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