It is very, very sad. True, unavoidably so. It is over and gone. I am no longer in stages of drama; it cannot be thought of, considered or dwelled upon. It cannot be saved. It is not a matter of winning or losing, reason or fight. The soul has left, if it was ever there, it certainly is no longer. It is not a matter of anything coming back, or re-firing and forging. No scenarios encourage success. Things cannot be returned, re-directed, or forgotten. It is not a matter of hopelessness anymore, but of brutal, cold acceptance.
My life must be lived now. I must grow as me and I alone. The primary focal point is now perpetually blurred beyond any level of adjustment or regard to distance. The most important things known to the world must now be the least important, the forgotten and unneeded things. Yes, this world has changed, it is hollow and tastelessly different. It is up to I alone to create a new one, one of me, one of self-preservation, one of happiness with my existence.
I must forget who I was, what I wanted and dreamt of. I must let it all go, most importantly, I must let myself go.
And go I shall...
