Twenty twelve.

Twenty twelve is filled with nothing but regrets, repercussions and goodbyes. I guess it takes something major, to put a person into place and prioritize perspectives. Things that seem so major, still affect me but are significantly lesser. There are thousand of things I wish I could rewrite, but we all know that life is a bitch and the idea of a do-over is nonexistent.

Twenty twelve left me nothing but regrets, leaving me to hate myself for taking things for granted. Never would I imagine how fragile, ugly and frivolous human beings can be. All that's left is me, futilely wishing I treasured what I had, but can no longer have. I guess its only human, to want things to cherish things that you can no longer have. But it is apparent that struggling doesn't yield anything, so all that's left is to be left in disappointing and remorse, until one day you become habituated to the hurt and just give up in life. Life makes no sense, painful things happen and there's no justification or explanation behind it. I guess you're just suppose to naively accept it, and move on with life. Now, if only someone could teach me how to do it.