[means to an end]

mistakes made. will it always be this way? if you said yes, i'd kill you. if you said no, i'd cry. i don't know what's best for me. how can i think in the we?

ever changing. ever moving. like salt water taffy collapsing on itself. that's how i feel on the inside. a rise, a fall. for every thing i'm sure of, there are at least twenty other things that leave me doubting.

shouldn't there be a point where you know what you want? where you just know. where you finally feel ready. where the pounding on the floor above you becomes nothing more than a faint sound from your past, and not a constant reminder of your present. i love and i'm thankful, but i'm always in a constant state of regret. for what? for too many things, a list that would never know a completion. an end, it's always about the end. and i guess things like that are why i never really even know where to begin.