You want a why, and so do I.
There are many things a person hears within their life. Every single person will one day hear something that had been told to everyone else. It amazes me that with every language in this world, be it human, monster, troll, goblin, animal, or invented, there will never been an original sentence. No matter how you arrange the words, whether you whisper or shout, or speak it aloud only to yourself, everything has already been said before. Even the deaf hear these words in their thoughts, watch them form upon the fingertips of others.
To have never heard that things change is to be brand new. To be small and new, with no knowledge of words and their meanings. Even if babies understand more than we've evidence to believe they do, or if the theory that only babies have knowledge of their previous lives, when they grow, they remember nothing. They are then only examples of how things change.
Another saying I've heard numerous times, though more poetic than that last, is how some change you feel, while other change goes unnoticed. I know this is true, but how? How are we so aware of some change, and so oblivious to other changes? It's unfair to say we head straight for denial when bad change arrives, and refuse to acknowledge it. I know that life refuses to let things be that simple ... Even denial allows some form of acknowledgment. Who or what decides which changes we know of? Is it different for every person, or does it just come down to the change?
I used to be a lot of things. I used to be a shy guy. I used to be nice. I used to be quiet, and thoughtful. I used to have respectable hobbies. I used to enjoy sea food. I used to be able to tell when it was going to rain. I used to be polite, compassionate, sympathetic. I used to be at ease with myself. I used to be a lot of things I took pride in being. That's all changed. I could tell you the exact situations that made a change wish to happen, but I couldn't tell you when the change took place. I couldn't tell you at what moment I stopped being shy, or when I gave up on being a nice, quiet, thoughtful, polite, compassionate, sympathetic person. I couldn't tell you when I stopped paying attention to the weather, stopped ordering my favorite foods, or stopped taking time for myself to do the things I enjoyed. All of it seemed to happen within moments of certain decisions, but I don't know which ones. And I never recognized it for a change. I never took notice of the things I was letting go of, much less what I was taking on in return.
I know a lot of it is Mandy's fault. I know a lot of it is Zac's fault. I know a lot of it is Draco's fault. Is it completely fair of me to blame my changes on other people who no longer play a part in who I am or what I do? I know I had bigger parts in these plots than I've let on. I know that it was me that finally told Mandy it wasn't going to happen, that I no longer wanted to run in circles with her, and it was me that laid it to rest without a look back. I know it was me that pushed Zac away once he had lied to me, and it was me that kept pushing him further away while I refused to let go completely. I know it was my feelings for Zac that created insecurity in Draco. It was my defensive attitude and temper that started the fights, to keep from talking about what was really there.
I know it was me that broke up with him, and went back to Zac, in love more with the idea of him than the person he was. It was me that didn't see how much I loved Draco. That while everything with Zac was what I believed I needed to happen, what I wished to see, and a love that wasn't ever going to go away ... everything with Draco was exactly what I had been hoping for to begin with. One thing that has not changed is that I still love him.
I know that one day he will marry Star Ruet. There's nothing I could have ever done about that. I just managed to fuck up the time with him that was appointed to me.
I've been looking for a why. Somewhere in all of this, there has to be a why. There has to be reason. It would be nice to believe that there is truth in that there isn't always a reason, that there isn't always a why ... but that's nothing but a comforting lie. Things don't happen for the sake of taking place. Things happen because we allow them to. Willingly or unwillingly, consciously or unconsciously, we allow the things to mold us in ways they were meant to. Or not meant to. Who knows? I kind of don't believe we really have a choice in the matter. We can decide what something does to us, but there will always be a piece in the back of your mind that whispers words you don't want to hear. There will always be battling thoughts, doubts and insecurities. Sooner or later, that voice will win out. It won't go away, and it will never settle. It's always going to push, and push, until it's eroded your decision completely and left you with nothing but confusion. There is nothing you can do about that.
I think it's in that moment that the unnoticed change comes to the front and shows itself for what it is. I guess the only thing you can do at that moment is acknowledge it, finally, and deal with whatever it's cost you. I wonder what sort of change this acknowledgment will bring me.
I've handed in my assignments. All of them. I did them. I don't care. I've been sleeping out on the couch in my annex, not really wanting to be in my bedroom. I don't know why. You ever lay down, and no matter what you do, you can't get comfortable? Like, the direction your head is in is too far west when your body now needs to lie to the south? The couch is comfortable for me. Absinthe doesn't even bother me when she comes out of her room in the morning. She won't exactly look at me, either, but I don't care. She and Draco still haven't given me back my tin. Absinthe's cat tore up the end of my quill the other day, so I fed it a rather big piece of fluff from the couch. It's still coughing.
A blonde told me to get out of her way the other day, and I should tell her thank you. She doesn't have a clue that I know her name is Lavender Brown, that she is friends with Draco, and that I think no more highly of her than she thinks of me, but she gave me something I needed to think about. The fact that she didn't intend to do it makes it better, but it doesn't make me like her any more than I do.
I never see Pax. I like him. I like him a lot, actually but ... I don't know a thing about him. The things I do know, about the drugs, blah blah blah, don't really seem to apply anymore. I know he's cocky and he likes to show me off like he won me in a slave auction, but I think he likes me too. I mean, in a way that's more than 'look at the pretty piece of meat I get to nibble on tonight.' I just wish he'd come by maybe. Maybe one day he'd like to actually talk to me.
To have never heard that things change is to be brand new. To be small and new, with no knowledge of words and their meanings. Even if babies understand more than we've evidence to believe they do, or if the theory that only babies have knowledge of their previous lives, when they grow, they remember nothing. They are then only examples of how things change.
Another saying I've heard numerous times, though more poetic than that last, is how some change you feel, while other change goes unnoticed. I know this is true, but how? How are we so aware of some change, and so oblivious to other changes? It's unfair to say we head straight for denial when bad change arrives, and refuse to acknowledge it. I know that life refuses to let things be that simple ... Even denial allows some form of acknowledgment. Who or what decides which changes we know of? Is it different for every person, or does it just come down to the change?
I used to be a lot of things. I used to be a shy guy. I used to be nice. I used to be quiet, and thoughtful. I used to have respectable hobbies. I used to enjoy sea food. I used to be able to tell when it was going to rain. I used to be polite, compassionate, sympathetic. I used to be at ease with myself. I used to be a lot of things I took pride in being. That's all changed. I could tell you the exact situations that made a change wish to happen, but I couldn't tell you when the change took place. I couldn't tell you at what moment I stopped being shy, or when I gave up on being a nice, quiet, thoughtful, polite, compassionate, sympathetic person. I couldn't tell you when I stopped paying attention to the weather, stopped ordering my favorite foods, or stopped taking time for myself to do the things I enjoyed. All of it seemed to happen within moments of certain decisions, but I don't know which ones. And I never recognized it for a change. I never took notice of the things I was letting go of, much less what I was taking on in return.
I know a lot of it is Mandy's fault. I know a lot of it is Zac's fault. I know a lot of it is Draco's fault. Is it completely fair of me to blame my changes on other people who no longer play a part in who I am or what I do? I know I had bigger parts in these plots than I've let on. I know that it was me that finally told Mandy it wasn't going to happen, that I no longer wanted to run in circles with her, and it was me that laid it to rest without a look back. I know it was me that pushed Zac away once he had lied to me, and it was me that kept pushing him further away while I refused to let go completely. I know it was my feelings for Zac that created insecurity in Draco. It was my defensive attitude and temper that started the fights, to keep from talking about what was really there.
I know it was me that broke up with him, and went back to Zac, in love more with the idea of him than the person he was. It was me that didn't see how much I loved Draco. That while everything with Zac was what I believed I needed to happen, what I wished to see, and a love that wasn't ever going to go away ... everything with Draco was exactly what I had been hoping for to begin with. One thing that has not changed is that I still love him.
I know that one day he will marry Star Ruet. There's nothing I could have ever done about that. I just managed to fuck up the time with him that was appointed to me.
I've been looking for a why. Somewhere in all of this, there has to be a why. There has to be reason. It would be nice to believe that there is truth in that there isn't always a reason, that there isn't always a why ... but that's nothing but a comforting lie. Things don't happen for the sake of taking place. Things happen because we allow them to. Willingly or unwillingly, consciously or unconsciously, we allow the things to mold us in ways they were meant to. Or not meant to. Who knows? I kind of don't believe we really have a choice in the matter. We can decide what something does to us, but there will always be a piece in the back of your mind that whispers words you don't want to hear. There will always be battling thoughts, doubts and insecurities. Sooner or later, that voice will win out. It won't go away, and it will never settle. It's always going to push, and push, until it's eroded your decision completely and left you with nothing but confusion. There is nothing you can do about that.
I think it's in that moment that the unnoticed change comes to the front and shows itself for what it is. I guess the only thing you can do at that moment is acknowledge it, finally, and deal with whatever it's cost you. I wonder what sort of change this acknowledgment will bring me.
I've handed in my assignments. All of them. I did them. I don't care. I've been sleeping out on the couch in my annex, not really wanting to be in my bedroom. I don't know why. You ever lay down, and no matter what you do, you can't get comfortable? Like, the direction your head is in is too far west when your body now needs to lie to the south? The couch is comfortable for me. Absinthe doesn't even bother me when she comes out of her room in the morning. She won't exactly look at me, either, but I don't care. She and Draco still haven't given me back my tin. Absinthe's cat tore up the end of my quill the other day, so I fed it a rather big piece of fluff from the couch. It's still coughing.
A blonde told me to get out of her way the other day, and I should tell her thank you. She doesn't have a clue that I know her name is Lavender Brown, that she is friends with Draco, and that I think no more highly of her than she thinks of me, but she gave me something I needed to think about. The fact that she didn't intend to do it makes it better, but it doesn't make me like her any more than I do.
I never see Pax. I like him. I like him a lot, actually but ... I don't know a thing about him. The things I do know, about the drugs, blah blah blah, don't really seem to apply anymore. I know he's cocky and he likes to show me off like he won me in a slave auction, but I think he likes me too. I mean, in a way that's more than 'look at the pretty piece of meat I get to nibble on tonight.' I just wish he'd come by maybe. Maybe one day he'd like to actually talk to me.