it’s my somewhat cynical observation that life is one constant acceleration with a very abrupt end. this cycle, this period, this person i am in this moment is only a fleeting thing, about to again get lost in that slip-stream. what feels most constant and unshakable is usually what the world tests the most. people give in to their pleasures, their impulses. i am disgusted by my own weakness. my own lack of resolve. forgiveness is something that always comes easily to me, but the strains of resentment, the fear of lost potential and external forces wrecking our hopes. that’s what scares me most. letting go, with even the smallest hope left in my mind seems to prove impossible. my irrationality when i reach that point never ceases to amaze me with it’s domination of control. i seem to lose perspective and, to some degree, any compassion. the things i pride myself for believing in get overshadowed. my mind might slowly cope and rewire and find new strength, but those grains of whatever i might have lost never leave. there’s this inevitability there, that i can almost find solace in. just as death makes life so much more important, losing myself makes finding it again the greatest gift.