What happened?

Finally. Finally.


Finally.


That sweet moment when you realize the semester,

is finally,

finally,

over.

YES! YES! YES! I cannot tell any of you how GOOD it feels to not have ANY homework right now.

Ahh. So now, I write.
But about what? Goodness gracious, for the first time, I'm not too worried about too many things. It feels good, but it's like I'm....somewhat empty, you know? It's a strange feeling.
The emptiness will haunt you and me.

We try so hard to forgive, yet we sometimes don't wish to be forgiven ourselves. Why is forgiveness such a hard thing to do for ourselves? Forgetting something some one else did to you? Easy. Forgetting something you did to some one else? Impossible.

We hate the murderers, the thieves, and the mistake-makers, but we do not realize that they suffer so much themselves already? We stone them to a fatal bruising with our words, hating them, killing them with our thoughts, hurting them. But they are our kin. We have no reason to judge. Stop it.

Just stop.

It isn't your place, it's no right of yours to judge, so there is no reason to even start. Face it, you don't go one day without stereo-typing someone. Admit it, because we all do.

So what? They made a mistake.

Forgive them, for God's sake and for your's and for their's.

We carry on, and the past cannot be changed. We know it, yet we don't accept it. Where have we gone wrong? The world wants us to be separated, to hate those who have made a mistake. Don't get me wrong, there's a difference between permanent insanity and a simple mistake, a moment of insane thoughts, and we still need to forgive both, but there are those who are unsafe always.

But world,

Where is this love that we sing of in songs?

Where is this love that we write of in poems?

Where is this love that we fight for?

Where is this love that great ones tell of?

Where is this love that we hope for?

Where is this love that we speak of?

We wish to be heroes, but to whom? Who really cares, honestly? You need a hero, so why not be a hero to yourself? Strange thought, but a thought nonetheless.

We can hope, but hope will not save us, our actions will.


Time cannot heal that which we know it can't.

Think about it.