wow, this is intense.
oh my god. FRIENDS. who needs them?
wow. wow. wow. wow. kill me now.
just stop. please.
PLEASE! DON’T TEACH ME ANYMORE LESSONS!
I know enough. I know enough to know.
Don’t tell me what you want, i know that.
I know what you want, and I said no.
NO! NO! NO. No. no.
I said it already.
But you didn’t listen.
You said you did. you acted like you did, but you didn’t. did you?
You’re my friend. I see you. I respect you. I’ve always seen you. I know you respect me. I’ve seen that too. Not always but I learned how to read you.
what do i do?
i had reasons. reasons to start this. what do I do? god. I’m so fucking confused.
my eyes are burning. i want to smoke. I can’t smoke. not now. I quit. already.
does the buzzer even work?
No, it does not.
I want to smoke. Make me a drink. A hot drink. Put whiskey in it.
I want to live. I want to be happy.
damn. That’s good. Warm too.
I sip it. I sip it, and I think.
How much today sucked.
How much today was awesome, and perfect.
If only that thing didn’t happen. If only THOSE things didn’t happen. It’d be perfect.
but they did.
they did, and they will. they’ll continue to happen. and i’ll continue to stand up for myself. and i’ll continue to be as badass as I possibly can. But I will probably break.
No matter how thick I’ve made my skin. And how many comments or feelings i can dodge, and overlook. I’ll continue to cry.
they will cut through me.
right through me.
I’ll try not to, but I will, despite myself.
despite my very real need to be strong. to appear strong.
and to be strong for myself.
i’ll cry anyway.
no matter what.
Because I can’t hold back anymore.
Because no matter if they love me, or they don’t know me, they can give a shit or not, it DOES NOT matter. They don’t care how I feel. They say what makes them feel engaged, and okay and ALIVE.
THEY DON’T CARE IF THEY KILL ME. THEY DON’T CARE IF THEY HURT ME. THEY SAY WHAT THEY WANT.
I’m unsuspecting. I’m trying to help, trying to heal. Looking to help those I love, to heal those I love, to try everything to take away their hurt.
It doesn’t even matter what I do. Good. Or. Bad. it doesn’t matter.
What matters is how they react to me. How they treat me. I can be not even thinking about how I look. i can be totally focused on anything but myself.
All they make me do, is think about me.
About how I look.
About how I can’t make them babies.
About how I can’t make them cum.
About how I can’t make them happy.
About how I can’t make them money.
About how I can’t make them whole.
About how I can’t make them feel like GOD.
About how I can’t be anything but me. About how I’ve changed.
About how I know I could be better. About how I let myself down.
About how I don’t know what I want. About how- even if i did- I couldn’t give myself what i want.
I couldn’t give Anyone what they want.
I COULD GIVE ANYONE WHAT THEY WANT.
I CAN GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT.
I can’t decide what I want.
Let’s find out what we want-
try to understand ourselves.
ADVENTURES?! I LIKE ADVENTURES!
Don’t you want to be on the edge with me?
To find the boundaries of what we learned was home?
And question that?
And go beyond that?
And find out that really we are so amazing and awesome and loving?
And accepting and vulnerable? And exciting? And beautful?
Aren’t we, though?
But why do I feel judged all the time?
I know I judged my Self.
But that is my right.
Is it not?
Not their right.
They take it no matter what.
Well! I just say FUCK OFF! GO AWAY! FUCK Y(OU THAT IS WHY YOU ARE A TERRIBLE PERSON>
oh no. we don’t care. no one helps us pick up the mess. the mess. THE MESS.
We DON’T MAKE THE MESS. We are given THE MESS.
We are given the mess.
We are given the Mess.
The mess. The mess, and the mess.
None of them belong to us.
But it’s yours. and I love you. And i’ll help you. but it’s not mine. i want to help but it’s hard.
it’s such a mess. not my mess. is it my mess? now it’s my mess. I am a mess. A MESS. Amess. a mess. it’s mine. it’s mine now. no i swear I know what I’m doing.
It doesn’t belong to me. it belongs to us. no not us. us all. not us. not US. together. the two of us.
Okay maybe one does. But they don’t all belong to us.
THEY DON’T ALL BELONG TO US~
But we have to clean them up.
we always have to clean them up.
we are not mothers.
we had mothers.
GREAT FUCKING MOTHERS.
I’m sorry you didn’t have a great mother.
I’m sorry she is gone. BUT I AM NOT HER.
I can’t be her.
I don’t know how.
I’m sorry, I hate that. I am allowed to hate that.
Don’t TAKE that tone with me. I don’t DO aggressive.
I want to take care of you.
I’ll do my best. The best I can.
But don’t expect me to leave myself alone to take care of you.
Don’t expect me to be your mother.
Don’t think you can understand or speak to my experience.
Listen, and learn.
I want you to know me.
I want you to feel me.
I feel you every day.
I FEEL YOU EVERYDAY!
so so so so so sosososo
It hurts to know you.
It hurts to be me.
It hurts to love you.
It HURTS TO LOVE ME.
IT HURTS TO BE ME.
I’m trying. I’m really trying…
To understand you. To understand me.
Most of all, i want to know me enough to be the best love in the world
to show the best me
to be the best friend i can be
to be the strongest
to be the brightest
to have amazing stories to tell
stories with intrigue,
and the things that matter to me,
and that transcend the bullshit we deal with.
we fight, on the daily.
but i don’t trust myself enough. i’m learning to. i’m trying to.
please help me.
please trust me more.
please be myfriend.
my Friend, on this-
Lonely voyage around the sun.
My friend, who is me. Who shows me me. The me I am. The me I have been.
And you, the me I am. The ME I have been.
We are what we will be.
But we can’t be, without we.
What we are now.
What we were,
What do we do?
We are nothing, if not lost.
If not hopeless.
If you cannot hear me.
And I cannot hear you.
We will cry,
on deaf ears,
as we stare,
at each other,
falling in synchronized step.
in manufactured step.
it mandated step.
in controlled step.
as we lose control of ourselves.
we realize we didn’t have much to begin with.
and what little we had,
we gave up to feel
bullshit in a coffin.
all i can see is dead already.
all i can know is i can’t be worse off than someone else. but i don’t feel better.
if i don’t appreciate the life I have, then why am i alive?
does this mean something> And if it does, why wasn’t it given to someone who would appreciate it more?
MORE THAN ME?
Okay. I know I don’t appreciate my life enough.
not as much as I would like.
But I try.
Why don’t I try more?
Is it possible?
I DON’T KNOW.
I can’t jump. I can’t slice. I can’t quit.
I want to sometimes. I’m too tired sometimes.
But i’m too curious.
no matter how much I feel alone
not matter how much i fail
i’m too curious to know what happens next
and i’m too in love to leave you willingly.
i couldn’t possibly do that to you.
the thought alone destroys me.
REBUILDS ME. STRONGER.
AGAIN AND AGAIN.
Over AND FUCKING OVER.
I might quit. I might quit for me or for naught.
I quit but I can’t give up.
and so I wake up in a cold sweat.
Nightmares scratching at the corners of my conscious mind.
And I’m still here.
I’m here again.
I haven’t left.
i haven’t gone anywhere.
i’m still here for you to see.
to build up.
to hold dear.
to not feel anything.
like i don’t feel anything.
like i forget, how to feel.
or hate you for insulting me.
or forget you for loving me.
or hold you in your time of need.
and remember that feeling, but ooooh- not quite what happened,
or how drunk I was-
or how much I cried,
or just quite how we connected our souls,
and touched them together in such a way
that could make us forget this drama
that we are so in tune with
that we are so blinded by
that we can’t escape
that we want to leave, so badly.
to forget who we are
so we can remember what we are
and what we need.