well, i guess no one can have everything.

i must learn to celebrate when i fail.

inner growth and fortitude follow the sting,

right? won't i rise with holy wind in my sails?

yet they always seem to get what i want,

door after door flung open. why are 

the keeper of doors, who haunt

the hopeful halls of fate and desire

so partial to them, but not to me?

yes, i do feel sorry for myself—don't, brother,

pretend the bitter blanket of self-pity,

hasn't warmed your bones. it's not lovers

or fame i crave, nor even happiness, particularly.

only to be lifted, just once, above all others.

// craig morgan teicher

i, honest to god, felt this poem, to my bones. it's a rather short one, compared to the others i've read, but none had the same effect that this one did on me. 

the desperation and bitterness one felt, having to deal with rejection one after another, longing for acceptance, the others received. and i love the way she started the poem with 'well', cause i feel like using 'well' at the beginning, it almost sounds like you're already resigned to fate. that you've already came to the conclusion of whatever misery that you're put in, it will never end and you cant change a damn thing about it no more. 

eg: well, it can't be helped.

and that one thought it would be nice and fine for one to fail, as it taught you more about life and how to outsmart it, by inner growth and fortitude, it said. 

my friend told me that i am too nice for my own good. that one day i'm just gonna get hurt from all the kindness i've been giving away cause at some point, people are gonna be taking 'em for granted and i am gonna be left with nothing. 

i know that. 

in fact, i kinda welcomed it cause like i said, i'm not worth for anything more.

though recently i've been sick and annoyed about almost everything going on in my life. 

i've been pleasing people, catering to their needs, with lengths that i would never go to if it was for myself and i felt like, that would be it. it got to stop.

so i started off with deciding what i wanted to pursue for my degree. i was stuck in between my need to please my family and my passion in arts. i'd do anything for my family tbh but i've been living my life with my family dictating me with what i can and not do and as much as my friends keep telling me that i should be grateful cause they're looking out for me, i felt like i've been molded to always be up to par with their own expectations and i am sick and done of never getting to be satisfied with my achievements, no matter how big, just because it was not enough, for them.

what's a dean's list if it's not a four flat, per say.

so i'm dictating my life now. gonna be pursuing literature for degree this september, gonna be joining festivals and theatre, writing sappy sad poetry and stuffs like that. heh.

we all gotta start somewhere.