this is what living like this does

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The title of this entry is a reference to times. Times of the past. Things that happen, then become memories all too quickly. This year has been the longest yet. Well, I guess there have been some long years, but this one contends...
and it's almost through, in the...well, school sense you could say. I have spent this year laying around sulking in the past and the present and the truth is that, as of yet for me...the only meaning you can truely love in this life is the future. Faith. Faith in yourself and in the potential of others and in your ability to get drunk if you can't otherwise maintain.
I can say, as of yet...I'm no quitter and I...well...I exist, effect people and I affect them. I do. You do to, never question that. Ever.
I have had, in this year, some friendships and relationships that have established for me that there is such thing as a true connection and a true need for love and acceptance.
We live as if there is something to prove, it leaves so many lonely in the end. So many. There always has to be something to do and expectations make us sick with it, we can't seem to live and to love and to love ourselves, until we realize we hate everything. Nothing is good, no, nothing. But is everything bad? Yes!
No. Life is good. Life is you. What you think of life is really what you think of yourself. Things aren't fair? You're not fair to yourself. You think life is slapping you in the face? You slap your fucking self, so shut the fuck up.
Although you hit me hard, I come back.
That's right, and if you think I'm bullshitting you, say something. Yeah. Try and do something about it, you son-of-a-bitch.
When you feel something so strong...love, hate, peace, jealousy, satisfaction...you are ALIVE. Hey, you are ALIVE. Newsflash.
Why waste it? Why waste your valuable TIME on anything so silly as something that is not yours to maintain in the first place, something you didn't create, something you didn't decide...you are life. How do you want life to be?
You don't know. Yeah, maybe you do. So do it. YOURSELF. You're not stuck, the past is what you base your experience on and you keep on living. It's so epic.
It's a romance with yourself you are living, scene by scene, play by play, it's yours. Get lost, find yourself, find those things about yourself that make you so happy or so angry that you puke all over the street or you sofa or your own bed. Then do it. Then embrace it. It happened, it's done and it's yours. You ought to clean it up, though. Yeah, that would be beneficial.
You don't have to worry about me, but you can. I wouldn't be freaked out, I wouldn't judge. I would listen to what you've done, and more importantly what you've learned from it. All I have is my life to hit you back with. I all I have is what you have, you have me too. That's it. Me and you...them...us. This is our story. That's it.
I could drink to that. I will. This is my life, and it's ending one second at a time, and ending and ending and ending. It's ending?
Sometimes. Sometimes it still feels I'm beginning one second at a time, and that's what it means to me. At least it means something. At least it fucking means something. That's it.