I know I’ve been a liar, and I know I’ve been a fool, but I’m banking on your intellect and your infuriating calm to validate my efforts. I know what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t deserve it, ’cause they’re all you’ve got. To take down the ceilings and light the walls on fire just to see them burn, to love for the sake of feeling just a little less alone, I can’t understand your sense of shelter. I am, but a swarthy and incensed stranger living in a loud and contaminated wild. But, If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed. I just don’t understand why people, why every fucking person is so bad to each other so fucking often. It doesn’t make sense to me. Judgment. Control. All that, the whole spectrum. Well, it just…
“You might not always like me, the things I do or the way I do them. But these are my things, this is the way I do them and I am me…”
you spoke them to me on several occasions.
and on a few of those occasions,
I was hopeful that you’ll not be you
and consider how I may feel.
Each time, I did
I was heartbroken…
but You are You
and I don’t have any intention
of changing you
to what I wish could be you
we both know there will be no comfort in that…
I feel like crap, sort of like an open wound,left to heal by itself. No matter how carefully I stitch myself together, the pain lingers, infecting the life that has yet to be lived.
I hate hating myself. It’s exhausting. I hate hating my life. It drains my energy. Yet, I can’t help feeling like it. I wish. No I pray (never much of a religious person) that this addiction, this hating-myself-routine, would change so that my life can move on. i don’t like to have my heart broken every time.
My limbs, appendages becoming machines of an unsupervised desire to be someone. To be someone who hands out her choices to those who she thinks has the right to own her life, because she is thankful. someone who’s worth the effort to be loved, to be cared for.
oh crap, i hate myself. i hate speaking out in volumes of text yet is a coward to speak it loudly. I hate lying on a cold bed, emotionally drained out to feel anything. without anesthesia to keep me from caring,i lie here, kept awake to see my life wasted.
Oh crap, I hate my life!
When all is fair in love and war. I succumb to insecurity. I really don’t know where I stand. It isn’t entirely about trust. It’s about being fair. Because what I hold is intangible.
They call it the “Quarter-life Crisis.” It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn’t know and may not like.
You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.
You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren’t exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don’t recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren’t really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.
You look at your job… and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.
Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn’t. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure.
You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.
You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can’t meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren’t a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap.
Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.
You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself… and while winning the race would be great, right now you’d just like to be a contender! What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it.
We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.
Note: I can relate to this post. But I forgot who I got it from. This isn’t mine for the record