satisfy.

I finally understand why I don't or can't full place myself into anything. In other words, my inability to be passionate or fully take something seriously.

If I take something seriously, then that means I care about it or at least it's important enough to enter my stream of consciousness. And if I care about something, then I have placed a part of myself into it. So, if anything were to happen to my object of concern, then it would result in pain.

Once again, we return to pain. It always stems from my fear of getting hurt.

I don't care because I don't want to inflict any more wounds upon my soul.

But I can't go through life like that. It's already killing me, slowly. I've lost the ability to enjoy anything. All I care about is just completing the task or objective in question. And through that process, I'm hurting those around me.

Everything I do is an empty gesture. It's simply what I have to do. Societal expectations. I smile because my established persona dictates that I have to, in order to appear "friendly" and "approachable." I laugh because it would be strange not to do so when encountered with something comical. All these things I do... I'm but following the script written by society. To blend in and move unnoticed.

Life is like one large, perpetual play. And, at the same time, it's like some high-profile covert operation: Recite your lines right, make the right moves, and you just might make it through another day. But don't stand out, don't do anything outlandish,. Your objective is to blend in and assimilate into the local milieu. That way you'll be normal and not run the risk of being ostracized.

But I digress...

I need to come to terms with the fact that I don't need to be like that anymore. I understand that back then... back there, I needed to devoid myself of any form of attachment to survive each day. But I had vengeance to hold on to. Now I don't.

That hunger for vendetta has been extinguished. Though, unfortunately, the demon... the shell that once contained that desire remains. It has simply just lost its source of sustenance... and now it's feeding on my soul. The very essence of my existence. All in an attempt to sate its eternal hunger. At least until the fates decide that I've drank enough from the cup of life and pry it from my hands, already taken by rigor mortis.

I need to loosen up... somehow. Taste life for what it has to offer, rather than figure out what I have to offer life. Or at least find a balance between the two. Smile because I want to. Laugh because it's actually funny. I want to be real.

.... but then again, what is real? Oh, such is life! That's why we live~ to figure out all these things.