9/13/08

The world is too damn beautiful.

When I was younger, I had a way with words.  They just flowed from my fingertips.  I could dance around the issue, using large words and elegant phrases to soothe myself.  Even though I never really wrote what I was thinking, it made me feel better.  Now, though, I find that ease and grace have left me, and my writing has all the subtlety of a fist to the face.

But it’s the world, really.  Have you ever noticed how it’s color coordinated?  How the red and orange of autumn ignite against the cold slate skies, and how the green leaves of summer stretch up to stroke a sky that’s almost too blue? 

It’s too fucking beautiful. 

And I fucking hate it.

There’s more to it than the colors, though. 

You know, I’ve never had a boyfriend.  I’m 21 years old, and still a virgin.  I’ve never been kissed, and I’ve never been on a date.  And none of that really bothers me at all.  Love, certainly, is beautiful.  It’s too beautiful. 

The love in me is overwhelming.  The love I have for my family, the love I have for my pets, the love I have for my music, and for the music of others.  It’s too fucking beautiful.

Words can’t really explain.  But there are reasons I live.  In my years of misery, I have never given up.  There has always been something to hold on to.  And, I believe, there will always be something to hold on to, because the world is so fucking beautiful…it breaks my heart every day, and that pain alone is worth living for.