2004-11-01
If I Am
I don't want to bullshit about what life Is. I don't want to explain the way you make me feel, so I'll cite it for myself elsewhere. I should not complain, I should think about the tragedies others must face and see mine as golden. Glistening. Fuck up, wake up the next day and start over. Actually opening your eyes, having that privilege honor and right. Tell me how lucky I am to be here. Eyes are wet, there is the ceiling. English frustrates me to no end. I hate sitting there, truly. I hate pasted smiles of understanding and attempted intellectualism. I want my brother, I want to hug him and know in his arms how important it is in life just to be true to yourself and put up with all the shit you're faced with. No one understands like he does, I'm not giving him too much credit here I really mean it. NO I will not blossom, I am so conflicted and so very sorry. I love you, I am sane, you know me. Someone once said that you die a little more each day. I think about that sometimes when it's all said and done. I think about the way I feel when we're together and how I can flip off some conscious switch and get away from it all. I think about how much I need you and how I hope you never stop waiting for me to become less difficult and disconnected. The way you see me is so inaccurate to the true inside but it's the best attempt I've seen thus far. My unrelenting self-pity stretches to the point where I am beginning to accept that no one would ever possibly understand it all, but thank you for coming so very close. I need my own religion, I hate myself enough that I'm still waiting for that Savior that I discovered long ago is Myself. I need everyone to know how decently stable I am. Don't judge me by this. Shove it. If I am, there's nothing you can do about it.
leesah-likes at 7:07 p.m.