One often, in the skein of their lives, seldom look back in retrospect and realize, truly realize, that their own folly has beset them with the heartache and pain that they feel in their day to day lives. Self reflection, as I have discovered as of late, is a two edged sword. Razored on both sides, one that cuts through the mist of self doubt, and the other that slices deeper into an already tattered soul. Profound thoughts, though depthless in their meaning and yet subliminal in their application, come to nothing when one has no point of reference inwhich to base them. Such intangibles, such as joy and happiness, seem more distance, more obsure, the more one (myself) seem to seek them. Oft feeling as if I am playing a game of dice, while my opponent is playing chess and has two queens... an unbeatable scenario, as my life bounces haphazardly through its now meaningless habituals. My advisary, my own mind, speaks to me in words that I know to be untrue, however how can one dismiss what one's own consciousness tells them? Self reflection has shown me the truth, the truth of my pain and of my sorrow, and in a subtle irony it has also shown me another simple truth... I have destroyed my own heart, and done it joyously, atleast at the time. The question I have yet to answer, though foolish in nature, is what is life when the rending of my heart is cyclic... and due to my own failures?