"...half of what i really meant..."

jack turned a year older today. twenty-four to be exact. nothing to be proud about, nothing to sing a song about. and this was it. this was all he could muster. a few choice words, too fabricated to mean a single thing. nothing worth the time and attention of you or anyone else. just another year to add to the collection. it was sad for him, for jack, looking back on all the things that had come and gone, all the people that had once been something, that had once meant something, and all the hearts now left in ruin somewhere deep in the past, all of it too sad and depressing to recall. though, in all truthfulness, beneath all the self-loathing and pity lay the real tragedy of it all: that yet there was more to be made. whether it be in the vein of sorrow or the vanity of elation, all of it still had yet to be set into the reality of the future (this is where it all falls apart. right here. the fiction of it all, the presumptuous, self-serving storytelling that makes for a more pathetic comprehension, finally spills outward toward the masses. this is the truth of it all, what i’ve been really trying to say my entire life: the honesty, the heart-ache, the bittersweet love that never lasts no matter how hard you try, these are the sincerities that i wish were truly real every day of my life. not some half-assed, sorry attempt at a half-truth, but something real, from the heart, unburied and free, under the sun, pulsing, stretching out, becoming me and you and everything that was and will be. this is what it must be, regardless of the consequences, of who may be caught in between. because nothing matters more that the truth of our hearts. nothing matters more.)