A New Me

I want my life back.

That is all I kept saying, this entire time. I desired it so deeply that I could taste it in my mouth like vinegar, eating away at my senses and numbing my every move.

I have got it all but my Mother and my horse, but that is to be expected with death.

Now I realize that I was wrong, I do not want any of it back, really. I wanted me back. The me that had no reason to live but miracalously and courageously fought on. I wanted the me that was willing to be different, regardless of what others might say. I wanted the me that watched Carnivale, regardless of the fact that no one else did, and loved the show anyway. I wanted the me back that tried hard and was willing to fail, (quite frankly, did in fact frequently fail). The me that could be a good friend, a listener and was not a whiny sap.

I have that now. I am me again.

I am the same, but different. The oxymoron of my own story.

And I am lost because of it.

The war I was fighting is over, and I find myself on a new battlefeild on a different side than before. I do not even know what I am fighting for anymore, but the battle wages on and I try to keep from cutting myself down before the enemy reaches me.

I am lost, but I have atleast found myself.

The fuzz continues on, but the tears are not coming. I will always be crazy, and I do not care.

Call me what you may, I am at least honest, and I never pretended to be a good person.