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Things were horrid back then. My love had left me, I lost one job and the other was starting to become unbearable. To ease my troubled mind, I explored my forgotten items that were imprisoned in the back of my closet, hoping to find anything that would remind me of easier days. When I ran into an old book that was wedged between a duct taped healed binder and the back wall of the closet. As I pulled the book out I thought, "whatever book this is, I'll read it." When I looked at the cover of the book it's title called to me with open arms "The Great Gatsby".
I didn't start reading the book though as I've read it twice for school, simply going back to wallowing in sorrow under the cover if a distant smile and broken laugh. After a week of this I came across a solution in my head to my problem. I decide I would become rich and famous solely to get my love back. To be so big and so grand that she who know where I was and I would be her beacon. It was my hope, my light at the end of a long dark tunnel that no matter what I would reach for. For some reason though my mind knew it would never work, but it didn't stop me and I had my plan. Suddenly I looked back at the old book that had been carelessly thrown on to my bed, and decided to read once more.
Once I started read the book, I didn't stop. The story turning into a movie in my mind, with grand settings flooding my mind yet still depicting New York in the way it always was. Soon though th pages stopped becoming pages but a reflection of muself, and in this beige mirror I see Gatsby as myself. Same ideals, same hope, same quest for love, and same plane to achieve it. But as anyone who has read the story knows, Gatsby's romantic and well meant plan falls apart very quickly, and ends in the worse way possible. As I closed the back cover of the book the reflection faded the now fresh events from almost a hundred years ago play again and again in my mind.
It was all a warning. A cautionary tale of what will happen to me in the future from the past, and all I could do was put the book down. I honestly thought over trying to just stick to my plan, trying to assure myself that wasn't trying to recreate the past, but build a new future. But I was all in vain, I knew I was lying to myself, and that no matter how good, complete, or happy I was. He past is gone and I can't go back. Two months later I finally let it all go, the plans of love, the schemes of fame and fortune, and even the thought of ever seeing my love again. It wasn't easy.
I came across the book again recently as my career is starting to pick up a bit of steam. However Gatsby is no longer a reflection, he still is an influence, helping me keep on the right path, though it's not the path I want. There are times where I wish I had tried my plan, but I think my life is better for not doing it. Somertime I'll even read that old book and I'll imagine Gatsby looking to me and saying,"You're doing good old sport. Keep it up."
I didn't start reading the book though as I've read it twice for school, simply going back to wallowing in sorrow under the cover if a distant smile and broken laugh. After a week of this I came across a solution in my head to my problem. I decide I would become rich and famous solely to get my love back. To be so big and so grand that she who know where I was and I would be her beacon. It was my hope, my light at the end of a long dark tunnel that no matter what I would reach for. For some reason though my mind knew it would never work, but it didn't stop me and I had my plan. Suddenly I looked back at the old book that had been carelessly thrown on to my bed, and decided to read once more.
Once I started read the book, I didn't stop. The story turning into a movie in my mind, with grand settings flooding my mind yet still depicting New York in the way it always was. Soon though th pages stopped becoming pages but a reflection of muself, and in this beige mirror I see Gatsby as myself. Same ideals, same hope, same quest for love, and same plane to achieve it. But as anyone who has read the story knows, Gatsby's romantic and well meant plan falls apart very quickly, and ends in the worse way possible. As I closed the back cover of the book the reflection faded the now fresh events from almost a hundred years ago play again and again in my mind.
It was all a warning. A cautionary tale of what will happen to me in the future from the past, and all I could do was put the book down. I honestly thought over trying to just stick to my plan, trying to assure myself that wasn't trying to recreate the past, but build a new future. But I was all in vain, I knew I was lying to myself, and that no matter how good, complete, or happy I was. He past is gone and I can't go back. Two months later I finally let it all go, the plans of love, the schemes of fame and fortune, and even the thought of ever seeing my love again. It wasn't easy.
I came across the book again recently as my career is starting to pick up a bit of steam. However Gatsby is no longer a reflection, he still is an influence, helping me keep on the right path, though it's not the path I want. There are times where I wish I had tried my plan, but I think my life is better for not doing it. Somertime I'll even read that old book and I'll imagine Gatsby looking to me and saying,"You're doing good old sport. Keep it up."
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Trying my hardest.
All weekend I've been working like crazy and it really paid off though I was too busy to to even think. Or at least I was until today (March 12 at 4:20 am), now my mind is on her, and why in the world I can't stop thinking about her. I've been through three different relationships ever since we broke up and I must ask myself. What the fuck (pardon my French) is going on with me? It's honestly baffling to me, and the only reason I'm up at 4 in the morning is literally because I can't figure it out. Why is it after months of being apart, three different relationships, College classes,two jobs, at least thirteen auditions , and daily busy work.
The Dream of The Restful Sleep
I'm done. Just done. But I'm stuck here.
I'm stuck here, watching ghost of a dead time dance around me. Begging me to join them in their gleeful dance and promising to return everything I once had in abundance. My spark of sense tells me I can not dance their dance, that their promises are as hollow as a horn, but the spark is just that. A spark, and nothing more. As quick as that spark disappears, my heart yearns loudly, pushing my hands to reach for those ghost, but I go through them.
The ghost become as transparent as rock and their dance became more elaborate. Leaving me to only watch, with a heart still yearning. I try ignoring the gho
The ulitmate enemy
"I see him." I thought, "I see that horrible man, but you wouldn't tell from looking at him. His smiles cons his way out of problems he created, his voice speaks nothing but lies and breaking promises, and worst of all are his eyes. Those eyes that shift and turns every which way, always looking, cataloging all the terrible opportunities that come his way."
I tilt my head abit and try to get a better look at my as my mind continued its rant, "how twisted can one mans mind be? To be so kind, so nice, to people then to turn and stalk and break others around him. It's sick how he does it to! He'll bring you in with that lying voice and conning
Single
I'm single again, and gues what?
It's staying that way, I'm done with relationships, and "love".
It brings nothing but hardship to the heart and the wallet.
And no I don't care if others have said it before me.
I'm going through with this and that's that.
Besides no one really wants love.
They just want attention.
Oh well, who cares.
I know, I don't.
I'm done.
Bye.
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