what anger does to a kind hearted realist
im here to filter out anger.
it wasn't born in me.
i found it accidentally because i have faith in people.
i want to believe that the ones that come to you have found their solace, and stepped onto the path that guides them to better places. and perhaps that path is ugly, and full of distractions that only emphasize the destination they are hoping for... but my job is not a sideshow there. in fact, my job is not a job at all. i am the one with honest words, eyes, and hands, and if you get past conversation you are something else. because my hands are soft. they haven't been worked in. i dont normalize the kind of loose labor that others might. i am veiled. i am pure. i am protected. and fuck you to anyone who thinks i penetrate easily.
i will be the first honest person in your life to tell you how fucked up you are. and perhaps the first person whose words you even begin to believe. and that's the role i hate. but i'll play it. i wont sit there while you lie to yourself and lie along with you. ill interrupt and cut you off and demand you question things. "how do you feel?" stop thinking so much. give me your beer it's not serving you well. listen to yourself god damnit. people are so fucking lost it makes me sad.
why do we spend so much time trying to rationalize why people treat us like shit instead of stepping out into the void to greet what's waiting for us? we are in love with our fears. afraid that without them, ...... what is so scary about moving past the fear?
the real?
isn't the real the reason you call me? because you're suffocating so much in your lies that you think of me randomly throughout your week when a song that hits home is playing on your stereo or a smell that enters your memories lingers through to the spelling of my name on your call log?
i am more than your escape from bullshit. i am more than relief. i am more than the rationality you are reaching for and the beauty you wish you knew.
and that's why in the end, im a "fuck you."
apologize all you want. what i care about is your happiness.
and i am the "fuck you" only because, i always end up caring more than the person who is living that life. and i wont waste my time.
because somewhere, and everywhere, there are people that care as much,
and more.
and those people are people i can have a drink with.
shake hands with.
hug.
accept.
see.
love.
it wasn't born in me.
i found it accidentally because i have faith in people.
i want to believe that the ones that come to you have found their solace, and stepped onto the path that guides them to better places. and perhaps that path is ugly, and full of distractions that only emphasize the destination they are hoping for... but my job is not a sideshow there. in fact, my job is not a job at all. i am the one with honest words, eyes, and hands, and if you get past conversation you are something else. because my hands are soft. they haven't been worked in. i dont normalize the kind of loose labor that others might. i am veiled. i am pure. i am protected. and fuck you to anyone who thinks i penetrate easily.
i will be the first honest person in your life to tell you how fucked up you are. and perhaps the first person whose words you even begin to believe. and that's the role i hate. but i'll play it. i wont sit there while you lie to yourself and lie along with you. ill interrupt and cut you off and demand you question things. "how do you feel?" stop thinking so much. give me your beer it's not serving you well. listen to yourself god damnit. people are so fucking lost it makes me sad.
why do we spend so much time trying to rationalize why people treat us like shit instead of stepping out into the void to greet what's waiting for us? we are in love with our fears. afraid that without them, ...... what is so scary about moving past the fear?
the real?
isn't the real the reason you call me? because you're suffocating so much in your lies that you think of me randomly throughout your week when a song that hits home is playing on your stereo or a smell that enters your memories lingers through to the spelling of my name on your call log?
i am more than your escape from bullshit. i am more than relief. i am more than the rationality you are reaching for and the beauty you wish you knew.
and that's why in the end, im a "fuck you."
apologize all you want. what i care about is your happiness.
and i am the "fuck you" only because, i always end up caring more than the person who is living that life. and i wont waste my time.
because somewhere, and everywhere, there are people that care as much,
and more.
and those people are people i can have a drink with.
shake hands with.
hug.
accept.
see.
love.