hunger and suffering, the winter, invaders

ptwo hundred, eighty-three[

Sometimes, I wish I was smart, I wish I made cures for, how people are
I wish I had power, I wish I could lead,
I wish I could change the world for you and me
I feel so- boxcar racer

You should listen to that song, for some reason I am in love with it right now. It reminds me that life isn't full of big pink erasers that you can use on feelings thoughts emotions situations relationships, mistakes that you've made to change things. Why would anyone want to change anything anyway? That's the way you are, accept it, and embrace it, let it grow on you, let yourself love yourself.

I'm not narcissistic, I promise.

I just have this strong impulse to love everything. I can't help it, I like to make people happy, I like to put passion into a project, I like to be happy myself, and therefore I surround myself by love. I try to surround my everyone with love.

Is it hard for people to pass love on? I can sort of imagine why, if things are hard for people to accept and trust, but it is nothing, life is nothing if you can't let someone in. If you can't sit down on a light couch and touch knees and talk for hours, to cry for hours, to open and rant and vent and love for hours. It is nothing to be alone in darkness, what is life without a coffee shop tea time? What is life without speaking voice?

What is life alone?

I fear this, but at the same time I set upon it in a hard way, a long journey. I have been hurt, torn, ripped apart. I have been broken, and continue to break and spout pieces. I've got a lot of people working to fix this, with glue gun and duct tape, but nobody wants to be a walking puzzle, with pieces missing and snapped and it takes more than a couple of people to do this.

The funny thing is, I have had a gluegun in my utility belt for years.

And all I've done is glued people together, and used my own for them, and let people take and given and sometimes I feel wiped out. I feel like my fire has been erased, my will, my spark, and I try desperately to keep it going, but it's like I fill my gluegun with my fire to fix other people, and I'm left un attended.

But I'm still here, I'm still smiling, somehow. I think you should too.

cause if I gotta you gotta.

love,

Jess :]