it goes on

i remember a time when life seemed so black and white. when i, at that time, was living the black, and i, supposedly now, would be living the white. naive and innocent to a point, i did not anticipate the utter grayness that would befall me in these small but fragile years. i did not anticipate the struggle that comes with resolution nor did i expect the sky to come crashing down on me as hard as it did. but in a time when our brains are expecting and our eyes are open with complete clairty, there is little room for prediction of something that has yet to come. so i sit here, still a young girl, but old enough to understand the bitter contradictions of life; the harshness of that which we need; and our inept ability to sabotage our own happiness. it is a cycle of our own making that is as clear as day and as abstract and mundane as the thoughts that i'm writing.

hope is just a justification to continue this.

but i'm begging you to show me differently.