Leftovers
I don't know if anyone even comes on here anymore; it feels a bit like a desert. The time for blogs and journals and painful things like these is drawring to a close. I don't go on MSN any more, you know i thought i'd never stop?
So many things have changed; we've all got futures to get on with; things we have to move on with or pursue. I'm not the same person i used to be; but in many ways; i'm exactly the same. I think i understand myself better now, i'm learing about myself all the time. I've realised that moving was the best thing i could have done from where i left off at 16. Suddenly i'm leaving a place that i felt liked in. And i'm not sad that i'm leaving. I know i'll miss it as you miss everything in life when it changes (and, oh god, how i dwell on change) but i'm glad i had it to give me confidence; i'm more certain of myself; more sure i can succeed, grow and change. I'm still scared about what will come, i think everyone is. But i'm more prepared to deal with it. And i'm more aware of how i will feel.
And another thing that's changed, is that i realise i'm lucky. Extremely lucky. To have a family like mine, to have the oppourtunities i have, to have the friends i have, to have a boyfriend that's not only my best friend, but someone i love so deeply and completely and trust so firmly. Someone that i am sure that wants me. And the closest friend in the world to me; lucky to have a best friend that, even though we've had our falling outs, our ups and downs, our disagreements, who i still have fun with and who i can talk to about anything, after all these years. And i'm lucky to have had, so far, a beautiful life, full of memories and thoughts and dreams. I'm lucky i'm safe, and cared for, and happy.
Today i looked at someone's art; It was beautiful and amazing and everything mine is not, plus what it is...but it was so painful; when i looked at it it made me want to cry; to be sick. I looked at it in a kind of awed, upset fascination. It's almost as though she stretches her pain across the screen for you; so it invades you and makes you jealous and angry and sad. I hate it; every time i look at it; i long to be upset...i long for my misery to paint as beautifully as that. I think art like that, though amazing, is terrible...i'd want to rip it off the wall. Becuase what i've learnt is that when you wrap yourself up in something, something that hurts...it never solves itself. I don't know how she lives her life... i don't care. I just don't want her to poison herself with all her sadness. It makes me so mad that i can't help.
But for now i will resgin myself to being me; i won't crave a difference. I have learnt to love what i have
So many things have changed; we've all got futures to get on with; things we have to move on with or pursue. I'm not the same person i used to be; but in many ways; i'm exactly the same. I think i understand myself better now, i'm learing about myself all the time. I've realised that moving was the best thing i could have done from where i left off at 16. Suddenly i'm leaving a place that i felt liked in. And i'm not sad that i'm leaving. I know i'll miss it as you miss everything in life when it changes (and, oh god, how i dwell on change) but i'm glad i had it to give me confidence; i'm more certain of myself; more sure i can succeed, grow and change. I'm still scared about what will come, i think everyone is. But i'm more prepared to deal with it. And i'm more aware of how i will feel.
And another thing that's changed, is that i realise i'm lucky. Extremely lucky. To have a family like mine, to have the oppourtunities i have, to have the friends i have, to have a boyfriend that's not only my best friend, but someone i love so deeply and completely and trust so firmly. Someone that i am sure that wants me. And the closest friend in the world to me; lucky to have a best friend that, even though we've had our falling outs, our ups and downs, our disagreements, who i still have fun with and who i can talk to about anything, after all these years. And i'm lucky to have had, so far, a beautiful life, full of memories and thoughts and dreams. I'm lucky i'm safe, and cared for, and happy.
Today i looked at someone's art; It was beautiful and amazing and everything mine is not, plus what it is...but it was so painful; when i looked at it it made me want to cry; to be sick. I looked at it in a kind of awed, upset fascination. It's almost as though she stretches her pain across the screen for you; so it invades you and makes you jealous and angry and sad. I hate it; every time i look at it; i long to be upset...i long for my misery to paint as beautifully as that. I think art like that, though amazing, is terrible...i'd want to rip it off the wall. Becuase what i've learnt is that when you wrap yourself up in something, something that hurts...it never solves itself. I don't know how she lives her life... i don't care. I just don't want her to poison herself with all her sadness. It makes me so mad that i can't help.
But for now i will resgin myself to being me; i won't crave a difference. I have learnt to love what i have