Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Old Leather.

It smells of stale cigarette smoke and and that weird plastic Grandmother put on all her sofas. It feels like pain and misery topped with sorrow and hate. These memories that haunt us will never be forgotten. These mistakes may be repeated a couple times to soak up, or done intentionally out of sheer stupidity. Whichever they be, they will form you. And you will form others. It will lead on for minutes, and decades. You will live on through others. The statement, "I never want to be like my parents," is tossed around, but sadly... we all end up like them in some way. Whether we want to or not.
I am stubborn like her. I am free and mindful like him. I am driven like him, and crafty like her. I love to read a good book, like her. I believe in second chances because of him; I believe in love because of her. I fight like her. I appreciate more because I didn't have him around. Of everything they gave me, didn't give me, I am like them. I am. At times, I wanted to be someone else. Someone prettier, richer, blonder. I wanted. I wanted more than I was given. I was greedy and ungrateful. Now, I want nothing more than what I have. A family, the friends that are worth having, knowledge some would kill for, and hope. Hope that things will happen how they are meant to.
This life is meant to mold you.