SO, I'm pushing onward. Through the pain, through the loss, and through the proverbial mud. The loss of friends, is astounding, but as is the world. Moving up is difficult, but emotionally moving out of a space in time is far worse. I've got to pick up and be someone else, but stronger, be quieter, and far more logical. Getting older makes you strive. I'm looking at myself through the eyes of a hawk, watching how I move in the world. And I hate what I witness. I've been too loud, too dramatic, too stupid, and far too angry at the world for things that are my fault. I need to stop thinking it's someone else's fault when it's my own. This woe is me idea makes me sick. I've got it all, so who am I to complain?! No one. I've got an amazing family, every material item I could want, and still I want more? Bullshit. Self analysis is tough, but it needed to happen. I was becoming a spoiled brat, not something I want for myself. "My head hurts, wahh wahh wahh wahh! Do it for me!?" Shut the fuck up. I'm always going to be in pain, I'm not to sick to go get cigarettes but I'm too sick to clean? Shut up you whiny mother fucker. Fuck me running, I am a whiny, lazy bastard.