In a world where women sell their phone numbers for the price of a few drinks... More on that later.
This is the second time I've cried today and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last. Sometimes I wish I could just fast forward my life a few years ahead, just to get to all the bad things I feel like I'm waiting to happen. But alas, I can't tell you that story. It was already made into a depressingly bad movie... Which leads me to reestablish the thought that I've spent more than enough time dwelling on: It's all already been done. Why do I even have any glimmer of hope toward being a unique individual artist- today that concept is as much a fairy tale as the ones I used to read when I was a little girl. There's nothing special about me, nor will my prince ever come riding up on his horse to save me from my humble and desolate existence. I will never leave this place.
Fast forward a few years and I'll still be sick. Fast forward a few years, I won't be any happier. Fast forward a few years. Will you still know me? On days like today, when my mother approaches me weeping and calls to me to quit smoking- smoking is all I want to do but then I don't at the same time. It feels like I'm being beaten on all sides. It's like propaganda and it's making me even more crazy. It's a very strange feeling to go against your natural instincts and lately there has been a bit too much of that in my life. I'm tired of trying so hard to change when I know that 90% of what I do, I do for someone else. Come to think of it, there isn't much that I do for myself. I guess my mentality tells me that if I try hard enough and I make other people happy somehow that will reflect on me and I'll be a better person, but the truth is that I'm only kidding myself. How can I make any one else happy when I can't seem to give myself good reason to get out of bed and take a shower without outside motivation. Shouldn't I want to get out of bed? Shouldn't I want... I hate not caring, so I make an effort to care, an effort to try, but at the end of the day I feel like a big fake. Can you see it now? Can you see how beaten and broken, how ugly I really am? I'm a monster.
This world is killing me and I'm not doing anything to stop it. I just wish I had the courage to help speed up the process.
This is the second time I've cried today and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last. Sometimes I wish I could just fast forward my life a few years ahead, just to get to all the bad things I feel like I'm waiting to happen. But alas, I can't tell you that story. It was already made into a depressingly bad movie... Which leads me to reestablish the thought that I've spent more than enough time dwelling on: It's all already been done. Why do I even have any glimmer of hope toward being a unique individual artist- today that concept is as much a fairy tale as the ones I used to read when I was a little girl. There's nothing special about me, nor will my prince ever come riding up on his horse to save me from my humble and desolate existence. I will never leave this place.
Fast forward a few years and I'll still be sick. Fast forward a few years, I won't be any happier. Fast forward a few years. Will you still know me? On days like today, when my mother approaches me weeping and calls to me to quit smoking- smoking is all I want to do but then I don't at the same time. It feels like I'm being beaten on all sides. It's like propaganda and it's making me even more crazy. It's a very strange feeling to go against your natural instincts and lately there has been a bit too much of that in my life. I'm tired of trying so hard to change when I know that 90% of what I do, I do for someone else. Come to think of it, there isn't much that I do for myself. I guess my mentality tells me that if I try hard enough and I make other people happy somehow that will reflect on me and I'll be a better person, but the truth is that I'm only kidding myself. How can I make any one else happy when I can't seem to give myself good reason to get out of bed and take a shower without outside motivation. Shouldn't I want to get out of bed? Shouldn't I want... I hate not caring, so I make an effort to care, an effort to try, but at the end of the day I feel like a big fake. Can you see it now? Can you see how beaten and broken, how ugly I really am? I'm a monster.
This world is killing me and I'm not doing anything to stop it. I just wish I had the courage to help speed up the process.
1 Comments:
I know you have it within you kid. Do it for yourself and NO ONE else. It's a hard path to take, but know that I love you and I always will, no matter what.
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