After ending the last post the way I did, I want to apologize to all for starting off the way I am about to. But after recent events (mainly, the not so happy start of my week, to the worse than before ending), I have no choice but to first release my anger, then explain myself.
With respect to the people who read this blog, I decided to refrain from being as vulgar as I really wanted to be about myself. So instead, I wrote this fresh freelance. Inspired from my most recent dilemma, it was created on a Starbucks receipt; and that receipt holds more value than just a piece of paper. Not only does it express how I feel, but it even reminds me of the $12.94 mistake I made 2 hours ago, on top of the $27.83 mistake I made the day before, on top of the $12 mistake I made prior to then (what's that, $52 of a mistake?? Wow!) And you know what, it really is not the person whom I was with that is responsible, and yet, she is.
In any case, I spit out my venom from the other side. Please bear with me...

War With The Mirror

I gaze at the picture this glass wall produces
I pierce through the eyes looking back at me
And I see the one thing I fought so hard to hide from everybody
I see hurt. I see pain. I see the tears of cellophane.
The salt water building up inside the hazel brown world
This water burns this world surrounded by white.
A fire of anger has engulfed me;
as though I were surrounded by the dark force called my body
yearning to be free; "RELEASE ME!," I screamed;
but not even an echo was heard...

I am capable of going beyond the means;
I am worth more than a "good friend"
Yet I limit myself to this desolate and empty feeling
the feeling of only loving by half.
You can not understand it because you are not me;
nor do I want you to understand because there are better things to feel.
And even though I stand in my zone
If I cannot be loved here, where can I be?
Now I want to give up, now I want to die
though I can't because I'm such a good friend.
But I don't want to be anymore. I just don't...

All of a sudden, I became one of them.
I don't like what the glass wall is showing me.
Because no one else likes what the glass wall is showing me.
And in my distaste, I strike the glass wall;
each falling piece a vision of my shattered dreams.
And for now, until I stand against another wall,
I have won the war with the mirror.