Don’t you look back.

While watching The Dance again this afternoon, I realized, through Don’t Stop, that yesterday really is gone. And I shouldn’t obsess over what’s done…

You see, I hate what I was a few years ago–I hate the things I did, the things I said. The things I didn’t do. Sometimes I think I’m over it, but little things keep triggering memories, and I begin to hate myself again. A part of me wishes I could go back and do everything differently, but then I think, what would I be today if I never realized the things I was capable of?

I just can’t stand hating myself over and over again. For things that happened years ago and things that happened only yesterday. All the self-loathing’s been suffocating, and I might be dead the next time I hate myself. This episodic abhorrence needs to come to an end, I know. The question is how. How can we really put the past behind us?

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So you've stumbled upon my blog. There's nothing special here unless you're into learning about my twisted mind.

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