Look but never see

I hate being analyzed, mainly because i believe i am an easy person to read. I try to be spontaneous but now I'm doing such crazy things on a regular basis its almost expected. It's as if i can't shock anyone with a tale of my crazy adventures anymore, it's even getting difficult to surprise myself. The truth is i have a basic life plan, there's some ace traveling and face my fears activities involved, but its going to take hard work and dedication to get there. This is probably because I'm too afraid to make the things i want to happen, happen now you see.

On the outside, i'm confident, non committed and careless. On the inside I'm desperately insecure, i allow little stresses to build up till i snap, and i fall in love as easily as ice-cream melts in the sun. This my friends, is caused by a string of relationship mishaps including the relationship i have with my dysfunctional parents, the misuse of love and sex with my very first true partner, and having welcoming access to statistics showing love and romance like marriage is dead. Lets face it folks, if it's doomed from the start... is there really any point in starting it at all?

love comes in many forms

I am emotionally spent. I am currently working on a ward for the elderly who are severely ill, this means death is a daily occurrence in my life. This week I have seen more disappearance of souls than you may see in your lifetime and it has been putting a lot of stress on me, I have been going home at the end of the day and easily going through half a bottle of white, no problem. But after the stress then comes the sadness, I am emotionally spent, I mentally have no energy, my brain wants to dream about happiness for a while, whereas my body is still pretty high on adrenaline. And the worst part...i cant seem to shed a tear, so here comes the cleansing process, watching the most tear inducing film i can find and conjuring images of loved ones who have passed, i need these tears, until they fall my heart feels too pathetic, rejected, alone, the beginning of what i like to call, love depression. Although the love causing this pain isn't because of a boy im lusting over, doesn't mean its not just as bad, perhaps it's worse, after all this love is as real as the salt water trapped behind my eyes.