Let's consider honesty, shall we?
What kind of person struggles and fights hard the natural urges of forgiveness? It's not even pride that peddles this resistance.
It's not that I can't forgive you. I just don't want to.
I'm not even mad at you anymore. And I am currently in far too deep my appathy to really care if I remember or not.
I think I reserve the right to be as blunt and brutally honest as I really am in this little nook I've declared mine. I used to mince words on certain things because I know how easily people with your stalker ability can google me.
But what was I being careful of, anyway?
So let it be known that I am not kind nor am I sweet. I am selfish as I am zealously malicious. I do not lavish on these but the natural me is a mean and inconsiderate person. I hold grudges and I take oaths of pay-back seriously. I am, however, constantly struggling to be the person I believe I should be (and not who I am).
But should push turns to shove and things come to the point where choices have to be made, I will no doubt be selfish enough to pick myself over people. Well, most people, that is. There are literally just a handful of people I can live with and the glorious thing about that is the fact that that list includes myself. I can live with myself. I believe there are too few people who can honestly say that about themselves.
Can you?
Of the people I would instantly give my life for, without any doubt or second guesses, they are few and too far in between. Cloaked in adoration and biased prejudices, the elites of my selfish heart. The little budding reasons why sparks of miracles still happen within.
You know, you were actually getting there. Almost. And honestly? I honestly don't think you deserve it. Just as I think you do not deserve forgiveness.
But what the hell. It's not like you actually asked for it in the first place, eh?
Bitch.
What kind of person struggles and fights hard the natural urges of forgiveness? It's not even pride that peddles this resistance.
It's not that I can't forgive you. I just don't want to.
I'm not even mad at you anymore. And I am currently in far too deep my appathy to really care if I remember or not.
I think I reserve the right to be as blunt and brutally honest as I really am in this little nook I've declared mine. I used to mince words on certain things because I know how easily people with your stalker ability can google me.
But what was I being careful of, anyway?
So let it be known that I am not kind nor am I sweet. I am selfish as I am zealously malicious. I do not lavish on these but the natural me is a mean and inconsiderate person. I hold grudges and I take oaths of pay-back seriously. I am, however, constantly struggling to be the person I believe I should be (and not who I am).
But should push turns to shove and things come to the point where choices have to be made, I will no doubt be selfish enough to pick myself over people. Well, most people, that is. There are literally just a handful of people I can live with and the glorious thing about that is the fact that that list includes myself. I can live with myself. I believe there are too few people who can honestly say that about themselves.
Can you?
Of the people I would instantly give my life for, without any doubt or second guesses, they are few and too far in between. Cloaked in adoration and biased prejudices, the elites of my selfish heart. The little budding reasons why sparks of miracles still happen within.
You know, you were actually getting there. Almost. And honestly? I honestly don't think you deserve it. Just as I think you do not deserve forgiveness.
But what the hell. It's not like you actually asked for it in the first place, eh?
Bitch.
