The Journey

I am a stubborn and sometimes selfish, or not. Well that what some people tell me. I am not easily convinced; still I don’t force my ideas. I like to live my life the way I want no matter what others want me to do. I don’t like to be forced to things even if they were right and like doing them; if it is not by my will I never do it. My life is decisions that I take by my self, and I hate to be controlled. I do seek for advice some times and do appreciate them. Sometimes fighting is not easy; sometimes I lose my strength, I have been so close to surrender but there were things that supplied me with strength. They were my tears long time ago but now they're my smile and laughter. Life is not easy and people are harsh. Dreariness is killing me, I am not sure if I could handle it anymore. I have no home and I don’t belong, and I have always been blamed for those feelings but it’s not my fault. The Journey by Mary Oliver never fails in making me feel good. One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice -- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do -- determined to save the only life you could save.