I can always make the past as my excuse for the future, or better still the present. I loath in its pain, well it seems that I relish the way it chokes my neck and making me lose my breath kind. It seems like a weird kind of satisfaction. Well it is a good excuse of failing and not wanting the responsibility of the challenge.
When things go horribly wrong, I take before me the past as a good excuse to water down your criticism. I tell it like it is still there lurking and tearing me but truth be known that I’ve already moved on. Already buried it but it is a good case for an excuse, a good case for pity to derive from you. SO maybe that is why I constantly bring about the past as a good excuse.
When I feel uneasy about new surroundings or situations I conjure the ghost of my past mistakes, failures and mishaps. Well I bring them along to see whether the would let me be. Let me step to newer pathways but soon, I get somewhat uneasy. Nothing seems to feel like the comforting place of painful bearings when I have made it my home maybe for some years I guess. I feel more comfortable with the past, because in a sense it is my familiar field. I know what happens next because I play the story constantly in my head.
Well is this a fictional tale or might you be wondering if this is a true depiction of what I am? Well it’s in an either or dimension kind of thing. I write introspectively and sometimes thoughts get animated when I think about some fictional animation of feelings and ramblings. At best they cover a thin line of animated truth and fiction. Feelings are like that to me.