“He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others—the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad.” —Jonathan Safran Foer
I hate feeling sad.
I am an all day brotha. Wake up in the morning, "I'm my dream operator." My mind be shifting to the next level. If you really want it might have to sacrifice. Be a little hungry. Keep day dreaming. You might be the only with that kinda vision and it's your mission to rep your position.
Whatever makes you mad; leave it. Whatever makes you smile; keep it.
I know I lose my heart so easily trying to show the best of me and I go into hiding each time after trying.
“Telling the truth and making someone cry is better than telling a lie and making someone smile.” —
And even if I cry all day I'll be stronger for tomorrow. Shit, I am too cute to cry all day. So, I've decided to let go.