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Writing has become a vice. Somehow it has turned into an addiction that I am starting to feel prisoner to. I love writing. Its like a drug. When I write, and my thoughts, emotions, ideas, feelings, etc are expressed I feel a relief and satisfaction in having taken what is unorganized internally and organizing it externally.

I feel an information overload. In my desire to write, my naturally existing desire to observe has been magnified. My mind is constantly observing, thinking, and trying to process all the information that I take in. There are too many theories, philosophies, ideas, facts, laws, and opinions that contradict one another. Without organization in my mind, or without an appropriate compartment to store and file all the information that my mind is taking in, the information cycles around and around without a resting place. All the while, I'm trying to make sense of it all and formulate a correct equation. But I don't know which tidbits of information should be the factors and which tidbits are the sums of the various factors and which do not even belong the the equation.

I'm an idealist. I have a certain perception of the world that is quite and unbelievably flawed. Some would say it is one of my great strengths. I, who live with an incorrect and skewed vision of the world, wish I could perceive things less ideally and closer to reality.

Sometimes I am afraid that if I were to see the world for what it really is, it might break my spirit. The realists might call me naive for my perspective of the world. I disagree. I know that my perception of the world is heavily marked by hope and optimism, which should not be confused for ignorance.

I know that my optimism affects a good number of people in a positive way. They tell me they are grateful for it and that it is a great strength to them. For this reason, I am grateful for my optimism.

How does my optimism and idealism affect me? It makes me resilient -one of my defining characteristics. No matter how dark the day, my spirit seems to pierce through the darkness (sometimes the gloom being a product of my own actions/words/thoughts). How does my optimism affect me for the negative? Tonight I am more aware of the negative effects. My optimism hurts me. It brings pain to my little heart that is immensely feeling. I take risks, I give people the benefit of the doubt, I believe that love makes a difference -no matter in what form it is given, I sacrifice myself for the sake of the cause.

But in the end, I know my perception of the world is flawed. My personal philosophy of the best way to live brings great disappointment and heartache.

But even my philosphy of how life should be lived is resilient. Dispite the pain, dispite the proof that I will be disappointed continually, I cannot shake myself of the hope I have in people. I cannot convince myself that I will always be disappointed. What a silly farce. I know I will be disappointed for given reasons always thoughout periods of my life and until the end of my life. But what I know, what I hope for, and what I believe do not always match. They should match. There would be less turmoil in my mind if they were all congruent with eachother.

Sometimes, I get tired of hurting. Sometimes I get tired of observing the actions of others and feeling the effects on my heart as sometimes the effects are so painfully cruel.

When we are little, and people tell us that life is hard, I think we have no idea what they are talking about. Only as I get older, and see life continually getting harder do I start to imagine the depth of the phrase, "life is hard." It would be more appropriate to say, "life kicks the living crap out of you." The purpose of getting the crap kicked out of us is to see what we are made of. If at the end of our lives, there is something left of us that is good, then I suppose we will merit a reward.

At this very moment, all I can do is try to cope. There is a fine line that separates those who are mentally, emotionally, & socially well from those who have lost it. All I try to do is walk the line, continuing in my duties, my responsibilities, applying my knowledge so that I can live wisely, and trying to find a balance between my philosophy of life and loving as much as I can and the reality of a uncaring world.

I pray that there is someone taking care of me from up above because I do not know how to do what I do any differently than how I do it. I pray that the stretching of my soul will lead to a beautiful and stronger product.