…full of broken thoughts I cannot repair.

That was Johnny Cash singing “Hurt.”

Breaks my heart every time I listen to that song, though I’m already thoroughly heartbroken today. Got issues that come back around again regularly. Nothing to be done about it but to suffer through it and pray for a better tomorrow. Hurting someone you love kills as much as being hurt by them…in case that wasn’t common knowledge. And pain doesn’t just go away. Sometimes not even after years. Sometimes not ever.

Fuck. I feel like a bad human being some days. But I don’t know how to repair past bad decisions. Sometimes there is no redemption in the eyes of others. All you can do is walk it off, so people say. But that requires standing up, and that’s where things get iffy sometimes. Courage doesn’t come easy, and pain has a way of severely weighing you down.

I am full of so many memories, most not too good. Done wrong by others, did wrong to others. Pain pays forward. I never claimed to be a good person, though I do care. Life catches up with us all and forces a person to look in the mirror. It’s become a question if I can cope with the image presented, or if I can change it. Don’t even barely know where to start, despite trying very hard for a long time now.

Sometimes I get to thinking that when one comes up depressed as far back as they can remember that maybe they’re destined to remain that way. I pray not. It really messes up the best-laid plans and ambitions.

…my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt.

I take a little consolation knowing that Johnny Cash himself struggled all his life with a darkside in his heart and mind. But he managed to overcome it to the best of his ability, with loving family members providing support.

Try to kill it all away. But I remember everything.


You are someone else. I am still right here.

What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end.


If I could start again a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way.


What I find particularly tragic about this conundrum is that pain reminds one of other past pains. So they all like to come flooding back at once, and it just topples you. Very heavy weight.

Breaks my heart for Johnny when June died. He followed her shortly thereafter. That really must’ve been hell on him, I can only imagine.

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