snotted up, drugged up...
and I am running out of tissues.
I feel like I have no one to talk to. I haven't been able to bear my soul to anyone for a while. I let out bits and pieces here and there, but I cant really remember the last time I had a decent heart-to-heart with anyone. Just talked to someone.
Its my fault I suppose, for some reason I feel more guarded now. I cant pinpoint it to a single momment but it does not help that I am more afraid of disappointing people now then ever. Especially my dad. Its something that I have always struggled with and perhaps I would be happier if I could just let it go of the expectations people have of me.
Last weekend Marc and I went to the new Gallery of Modern Art and there was one piece that really struck me. The artist had these series of black and white photographs of his mother. It was like a timeline of her life. Under each piece there was a memory or a quote or something. I remember reading one and he said something like this(paraphrased): "As soon as I stopped trying to please my parents, I felt at peace with myself." You see he started studying law, but he always wanted to be an artist and his parents were not to happy with this. It brought me to tears cause I was just thinking how much I wish I could feel the freedom he felt. I dont think it would have been easy for him, but he did it despite how difficult it must have been. I admire and wish I had the guts to do the same. No piece of art has affected me in the way it did and I doubt any other piece will. I hope it is permenant piece there so I can visit it again and maybe even find some f**king courage.
Prayer offers me some relief, yet my ceiling doesn't whisper back any reassurance. I dont think I have much choice other than to keep on talking to it and hope that the words get through the ceiling and I am still heard.
I feel like I have no one to talk to. I haven't been able to bear my soul to anyone for a while. I let out bits and pieces here and there, but I cant really remember the last time I had a decent heart-to-heart with anyone. Just talked to someone.
Its my fault I suppose, for some reason I feel more guarded now. I cant pinpoint it to a single momment but it does not help that I am more afraid of disappointing people now then ever. Especially my dad. Its something that I have always struggled with and perhaps I would be happier if I could just let it go of the expectations people have of me.
Last weekend Marc and I went to the new Gallery of Modern Art and there was one piece that really struck me. The artist had these series of black and white photographs of his mother. It was like a timeline of her life. Under each piece there was a memory or a quote or something. I remember reading one and he said something like this(paraphrased): "As soon as I stopped trying to please my parents, I felt at peace with myself." You see he started studying law, but he always wanted to be an artist and his parents were not to happy with this. It brought me to tears cause I was just thinking how much I wish I could feel the freedom he felt. I dont think it would have been easy for him, but he did it despite how difficult it must have been. I admire and wish I had the guts to do the same. No piece of art has affected me in the way it did and I doubt any other piece will. I hope it is permenant piece there so I can visit it again and maybe even find some f**king courage.
Prayer offers me some relief, yet my ceiling doesn't whisper back any reassurance. I dont think I have much choice other than to keep on talking to it and hope that the words get through the ceiling and I am still heard.