a stream of consciousness on things past
I've noticed something strangely annoying about myself.
that the men in whom I am most interested, are consistently interested in someone else.
and that, without fail, those who adore me, I don't like.
and I can never explain why adequately.
there is always an animalistic fascination with that which is held above our heads. I so strongly feel the need to reinvent and improve myself that I will willingly hold to superficial relationships wherein the people I adore are not near the girl they love, but rather feigning love for the girl they are near. I suffocatingly grasp the mangled throat and fall drastically short because I will never be what he wants, I will never be that other person who is so deified by a corked mind. I've watched myself say: leave me, go after her, and see who loses. But detachment can only go so far. This has proved itself to me time and again. I come to an impromptu realization, I defensively decide that I can not, I will not allow myself to be in this position any longer, and then the junkie begs to be shot up again. I've heard myself say: "tell me you love me, i don't care if you don't mean it. I would rather feel like you love me than to know that you don't." That is downright sickening, but I know some day that I will utter the repulsive verbose garbage again. The whole scenario leaves an adulterated taste in my mouth, that I have become so fucking self-conscious and self-deprecating based on a few idiots who could not see past their toying imaginations, that everything was so twisted and perverse, that I always let it happen. Dependent on the surrounding situation, I can be so determined and strong, or so mousy and appeasing. I despise the latter portion of myself, but know that it stems from a nascent avoidance of conflict. I need to deal with this in another way. I need to sleep.
that the men in whom I am most interested, are consistently interested in someone else.
and that, without fail, those who adore me, I don't like.
and I can never explain why adequately.
there is always an animalistic fascination with that which is held above our heads. I so strongly feel the need to reinvent and improve myself that I will willingly hold to superficial relationships wherein the people I adore are not near the girl they love, but rather feigning love for the girl they are near. I suffocatingly grasp the mangled throat and fall drastically short because I will never be what he wants, I will never be that other person who is so deified by a corked mind. I've watched myself say: leave me, go after her, and see who loses. But detachment can only go so far. This has proved itself to me time and again. I come to an impromptu realization, I defensively decide that I can not, I will not allow myself to be in this position any longer, and then the junkie begs to be shot up again. I've heard myself say: "tell me you love me, i don't care if you don't mean it. I would rather feel like you love me than to know that you don't." That is downright sickening, but I know some day that I will utter the repulsive verbose garbage again. The whole scenario leaves an adulterated taste in my mouth, that I have become so fucking self-conscious and self-deprecating based on a few idiots who could not see past their toying imaginations, that everything was so twisted and perverse, that I always let it happen. Dependent on the surrounding situation, I can be so determined and strong, or so mousy and appeasing. I despise the latter portion of myself, but know that it stems from a nascent avoidance of conflict. I need to deal with this in another way. I need to sleep.