Psychic Freedom

I've realized that I overlooked one thing. In my haste, I've not seen that being alone, without my brother, sister and general family, can be viewed as having freedom. I have the space and freedom to move, to think, to make choices. Along this path of life, many make mistakes. But only a fool will get caught in a rut and go nowhere. Many move on, and some may stop to help those who have fallen. I have tried to rebuild bridges, perhaps where none should be, and that may be the chief reason why I have failed so terribly. I do not care. Recently, I do not care about many things. There is no turning back. I have done many things for which I am sorry, deeds which I cannot undo. It breaks my heart to say this, but I cannot return to mend what I have smashed so thoughtlessly. To do that, I have to turn and see all the people I have left, all those who have left me. And once I turn to try and mend things I know I have no power to fix, I myself will be shattered. The first step to moving on is to go forward. I must release the ties that bind me to the past, that hinder my path to the future. Only then can I truly claim that I have learned from my past mistakes. I bid goodbye to the past that clips my wings. I have been given opportunities few people come across in their lifetimes. It is time I learned that. No matter how miserable I am, how burdened my soul is, I must continue plowing through as the days turn to months, and then to years. I may have lost my music, but it is merely a temporary setback. I still have my skill in languages. I refuse to bow down to the blows life and fate keep dishing out to bring people to their knees. I have seen personally how one good deed begets another. And I am determined to change how I live my life. I closed my feelings off for a good reason. And maybe I need a good reason to shock me back into living. I want to work where I can help people. Not people I know personally. I was never much good at helping those I know. Enough about my missionary thoughts for the moment. I can never return to who I used to be. Things have happened, I lost faith. But I refuse to look back, and I want to move on. The threads linking me to the people I (used?) to care about are thin, but still present. As long as I have breath in my lungs, those threads connect me to them. And I shall grasp them tightly and anchor them to my heart. These are the people I don't want to lose. I'm tired of losing. It's time I stood up and took a stand against fate.