can you even hear me?
Remember how I said I shouldn't bottle anything up, as it only leads to bad things? -- And then how I sunk back and smoothly sipped my hypocrisy as I bottled up that thing for over 3 years? Maybe you don't. Maybe you do Matthew, dearest Matthew. Man I treat you like shit sometimes. Why is it that I can only tell you things? That I can only confide in you and then cast you aside like that? Fuck I'm sorry... I mean that, I want everyone to read that I'm sorry, that I mean that I'm sorry, that you've done more for me then a lot of people ever will.
I'm sure you'll all remember this:
This cruel and inexplicable complex I have with getting close to people. That even my best friend of 12 years doesn't know everything (though you're damn close Erika, fuck how I love you for that); that I don't tell things that are bothering me to my friends, close friends or even my boyfriend -- someone whom I want to be close to more then anything in the world. Could it be that I'm secretive? That I have barriers, that I'm don't want to become dependant on one single person?
HA.
Again, I've spent a good deal of my weekend in unhealthy isolated ways, with the exception of the awkward grad night (with the absolutely amazing graduates... my goodness did my friends look stunning) and...I know where I'm going with this I just don't know how to get there...
I'm not what people make me out to be.
I am not this smart, warm, friendly and good person that I try to be, that my friends make me out to be. I feel so far away from everyone, so agonizingly distant because of this front, my chest cavity physically aches from this constant lonliness that I've launched myself into.
Only I know the vain, manipulative and cruel creature that resides beneath this exterior. Only I know the hypocrite, the ugly black and disheveled and boring nothing that I hide behind my laughs, smiles and exaggerated stories. I talk about people, I make fun of people behind their backs, even my art teacher who lost a child. I do it because they bother me a little bit… but in the end all I’m looking for is a laugh. What tragedy, I think I’ve convinced myself that I was successful in hiding this girl from you all, I failed at that.
The things I hate about Knister I see in myself, the things I hate about most people, I see inside of me, the things that I can't stand about Connie and my mother, They're there too. There's this ugliness to me that sprouted in grade 10. That could be attributed to a few things I suppose, I'll leave that up for interpretation.
I'm lazy, I'm apathetic, I lack ambition. I have no will power and cave to lives pleasures without a second thought. Whether it's lustful, glutinous or slothful, my work and school take backseat to those things. I feel so disgusting consumed in nothing but self-loathing.
So much of me needs validation from other people, I'm so concerned about what people think of me. I'm so concerned about being accepted.
Standing up by my locker, surrounded by a group of my friends, I can't help but feel that I've fooled them. It's unfair of me to say that I feel unloved, but know what? I really do feel it. I feel like a burden to so many of my friends, I feel like it to my mother, Erika’s about the only person whom I don’t feel that way.
I feel like I've tricked people into liking me... and it’s my own fault for feeling such solitude because I’m the one who hasn’t let them in…because people haven't opened me up and seen everything that I am... that I haven't been solved. Because for what I really am is regarded with the highest disdain from those closest to me, I hate it
The funny thing about a Rubik’s cube, the first time you pick one up, there's so many impressions that you can get from it. Something so simple suddenly becomes the realm of all complexity. You can't solve one bit without taking the entire whole into the equation, to do something you must first do this, and then do that. It's fucking foreplay for the mind until that glorious moment when the last twist is made and you've done it.
It's funny, because this is what I find about people. Getting to know a person, maneuvering around topics, asking questions, reading body language, reading them... the whole dance we do, and whether it takes an evening or 6 months, it's fabulous and leaves your brain feeling wonderful.
The second time you solve a Rubik's cube it happens faster then the first time, usually. There's still the same excitement, still that sense of fulfillment from solving it. After the third time though, you notice a pattern. That certain actions in certain situations with certain individuals will give you the results you want. That it's not a mind puzzle; it's just a pattern.
It resides in myself and the way I treat others as well, that pattern, that temporary fixation until figured out, and then discarded.
And there it is... I'm so scared people will know this person that I really am, that I completely deny them the chance of crossing that barrier. And I know I'm only scratching the surface.
I can be so full of bullshit.
I'm sure you'll all remember this:
This cruel and inexplicable complex I have with getting close to people. That even my best friend of 12 years doesn't know everything (though you're damn close Erika, fuck how I love you for that); that I don't tell things that are bothering me to my friends, close friends or even my boyfriend -- someone whom I want to be close to more then anything in the world. Could it be that I'm secretive? That I have barriers, that I'm don't want to become dependant on one single person?
HA.
Again, I've spent a good deal of my weekend in unhealthy isolated ways, with the exception of the awkward grad night (with the absolutely amazing graduates... my goodness did my friends look stunning) and...I know where I'm going with this I just don't know how to get there...
I'm not what people make me out to be.
I am not this smart, warm, friendly and good person that I try to be, that my friends make me out to be. I feel so far away from everyone, so agonizingly distant because of this front, my chest cavity physically aches from this constant lonliness that I've launched myself into.
Only I know the vain, manipulative and cruel creature that resides beneath this exterior. Only I know the hypocrite, the ugly black and disheveled and boring nothing that I hide behind my laughs, smiles and exaggerated stories. I talk about people, I make fun of people behind their backs, even my art teacher who lost a child. I do it because they bother me a little bit… but in the end all I’m looking for is a laugh. What tragedy, I think I’ve convinced myself that I was successful in hiding this girl from you all, I failed at that.
The things I hate about Knister I see in myself, the things I hate about most people, I see inside of me, the things that I can't stand about Connie and my mother, They're there too. There's this ugliness to me that sprouted in grade 10. That could be attributed to a few things I suppose, I'll leave that up for interpretation.
I'm lazy, I'm apathetic, I lack ambition. I have no will power and cave to lives pleasures without a second thought. Whether it's lustful, glutinous or slothful, my work and school take backseat to those things. I feel so disgusting consumed in nothing but self-loathing.
So much of me needs validation from other people, I'm so concerned about what people think of me. I'm so concerned about being accepted.
Standing up by my locker, surrounded by a group of my friends, I can't help but feel that I've fooled them. It's unfair of me to say that I feel unloved, but know what? I really do feel it. I feel like a burden to so many of my friends, I feel like it to my mother, Erika’s about the only person whom I don’t feel that way.
I feel like I've tricked people into liking me... and it’s my own fault for feeling such solitude because I’m the one who hasn’t let them in…because people haven't opened me up and seen everything that I am... that I haven't been solved. Because for what I really am is regarded with the highest disdain from those closest to me, I hate it
The funny thing about a Rubik’s cube, the first time you pick one up, there's so many impressions that you can get from it. Something so simple suddenly becomes the realm of all complexity. You can't solve one bit without taking the entire whole into the equation, to do something you must first do this, and then do that. It's fucking foreplay for the mind until that glorious moment when the last twist is made and you've done it.
It's funny, because this is what I find about people. Getting to know a person, maneuvering around topics, asking questions, reading body language, reading them... the whole dance we do, and whether it takes an evening or 6 months, it's fabulous and leaves your brain feeling wonderful.
The second time you solve a Rubik's cube it happens faster then the first time, usually. There's still the same excitement, still that sense of fulfillment from solving it. After the third time though, you notice a pattern. That certain actions in certain situations with certain individuals will give you the results you want. That it's not a mind puzzle; it's just a pattern.
It resides in myself and the way I treat others as well, that pattern, that temporary fixation until figured out, and then discarded.
And there it is... I'm so scared people will know this person that I really am, that I completely deny them the chance of crossing that barrier. And I know I'm only scratching the surface.
I can be so full of bullshit.