i escape into / your escape into
whether people do so purposefully or not, sometimes i imagine that they find it easy to just come back & try to talk to me after having been estranged for an extended period of time. i'm starting to see patterns. i see my 'friends' having emotional distress, feeling that i am some sort of obstacle in their lives that must be removed -- whether it be due to the fact that i am in actuality a bad person, or that i am too much to handle. i'll be honest. i make it easy for them -- for the most part, i am kind, i'm polite, and i'm always welcoming to them when they try to come back and make amends with me. in the back of their minds, whether they realize it or not, i am starting to get the impression that they feel that they can do this as many times as they like, as long as it's convenient to them. i have never been one to make constantly huge, significant changes to my life every single waking hour. in fact, i never change, and i think people take comfort in that, because if they try to change their life for the better and it ends up not working out, i am the home they can run back to -- the one thing that never really has changed.
i have spent much time in the Quiet room. i kept my hands idle over the creases of my jeans, rocking back and forth while attempting to differenciate hate and futility; love and loss: a four fold concept, the paper fortune teller that blooms like the throat of a disidious flower. i used to feel uncomfortable with the thought of ever hating someone that i had come to love in my life. i felt it was a cop out -- a point in a long series of turns and directions where you have nothing left to do but resort to such when you feel the absolute worst. but despite that, i think i am coming to a point where i am not afraid to hate anyone anymore. there is so much i could say, directly, about how you have ruined me in so many ways. ways that i never spoke of, or have any intention of doing so in the future. it isn't something i am going to hold against anyone -- i don't ever intend to be the person that spends the majority of their life blaming others for their problems. there has been so much i have wished to share with you, and your influences on everything that happens in my life is undeniable. i could be spiteful and say that i wish every single memory of you be erased from my memory, but if it weren't for you, i would have never learned to see the color in others when there is so much darkness surrounding. it fills me up, welling up like a thick sap from an old tree.
and if the ghosts that haunt the woods really are reflections of ourselves, maybe the light will always stay on here at home in case you decide to run away.
i have spent much time in the Quiet room. i kept my hands idle over the creases of my jeans, rocking back and forth while attempting to differenciate hate and futility; love and loss: a four fold concept, the paper fortune teller that blooms like the throat of a disidious flower. i used to feel uncomfortable with the thought of ever hating someone that i had come to love in my life. i felt it was a cop out -- a point in a long series of turns and directions where you have nothing left to do but resort to such when you feel the absolute worst. but despite that, i think i am coming to a point where i am not afraid to hate anyone anymore. there is so much i could say, directly, about how you have ruined me in so many ways. ways that i never spoke of, or have any intention of doing so in the future. it isn't something i am going to hold against anyone -- i don't ever intend to be the person that spends the majority of their life blaming others for their problems. there has been so much i have wished to share with you, and your influences on everything that happens in my life is undeniable. i could be spiteful and say that i wish every single memory of you be erased from my memory, but if it weren't for you, i would have never learned to see the color in others when there is so much darkness surrounding. it fills me up, welling up like a thick sap from an old tree.
and if the ghosts that haunt the woods really are reflections of ourselves, maybe the light will always stay on here at home in case you decide to run away.