As much as I do not wish to be trouble, I try my best.
That’s all I could ever do.
Without a firm attachment to a religion or a cause beyond myself, the actions I have lived out are and has always been, grounded in the intuition and the beliefs I feel strongly towards.
I may not get it the first and probably not the second time, but darn, do I wish to be better than I was yesterday. I refuse to be stagnant to a lesser version of myself — someone who knew less.
I’m no saint. I’ve made a handful of mistakes, largely due to my glaring incompetence. I’ve purposefully spited, having indulged into my vices and allowed myself to be less than.
I have broken some promises to those who I claimed to have “loved” and “would do nothing to hurt them.” I did love them.
This isn’t an excuse, but a earnest confession to my existence — an explanation behind my actions.
At the end of the day, I do try to be good.
Day in and day out, I’m trying my hand at living a life I can look back on with very few regrets. Rectifying when I have fallen into error while simultaneously paying back in apology.
That is the dream. Always has been.
And from the looks of it, I got a couple of years left to see it all come to fruition.
