(no subject)
i'm being a very convincing fake lately. i have every reason in the world to be happy, and sometimes i am. but often i'm not and i have to pretend like i am, because now there's more people looking after me and asking about my happiness, more people who want to know what's going on with me. i'm not used to that. and yes, sometimes i'm happy, but other times, for the same reasons i was happy, i'm miserable. because sometimes it seems like there's something missing, and sometimes i think i know what that is, and what do i do about it now? there are days when i'm content, but mroe days when i'm torn. have i done the right thing? am i where i should be? have i surrounded myself with the right people? i don't know. sometimes i think i know, but i don't. sometimes i even think i know what i want, but i'm realizing i don't even know that anymore. or maybe i do know that, and maybe i just don't want to admit that i fucked up royally in several major ways.
i'm okay sometimes, and other times i need something that simply isn't here. i'm starting to understand why i cling to the local chr station like it's my security blanket, why i can't tolerate listening to "my immortal" without becoming silent and sad, why part of me feels empty when dealing with anyone else because there's only one person i know who feels things the way i do and who gets it. i've given breaking away from my past a more than honest try. sometimes i succeed very well, and other times i can't drag my mind away from it. i'm torn because there's something that's a risk and something that's not a risk, and both are things i like a lot, but the risk is something almost irresistible. i can choose only one or the other. i have chosen one and then i chose another, though. choices are changeable; i've proven that. but how often should i change them, if at all, and what are the repercussions? each time i do something thinking i'm doing the right thing, afterwards i'm never completely sure. like now. i'm not sure at all. sometimes i think i am, but really, i'm not, because these doubts are here often and may be here permanently. it doesn't help that i'm actively being pulled in two opposite directions, both of which have their very distinct pros and cons, and i don't always know which is better.
i feel very tormented lately because i have to smile and act like i'm perfectly content, but in actuality, all i'm trying to do is find the most efficient way to claw my way out of everything. i try to write poetry, and i get stuck halfway through ebcause i'm too worked up to write; the emotions are there and they're way too strong for me to articulate into something understandable. i've even tried getting drunk and writing, a la elliott smith, and even that hasn't helped (it's just made me gag on the shot and get sleepy and head to bed). the few people i trust enough--they're going to tire of my indecisiveness, my relentless introspection and analyzation. even i'm getting tired of it myself. it would be so nice to escape being me for a while, just leave my body lying in bed and slip out of it like it's a shell and go somewhere and do something very un-me.
i need to figure everything out with this situation. that's one of my new year's resolutions. it's going to take a while. the other resolution is to write poetry every day so that maybe i can actually get published. yeah, that's worked out really well so far, hasn't it?
i'm okay sometimes, and other times i need something that simply isn't here. i'm starting to understand why i cling to the local chr station like it's my security blanket, why i can't tolerate listening to "my immortal" without becoming silent and sad, why part of me feels empty when dealing with anyone else because there's only one person i know who feels things the way i do and who gets it. i've given breaking away from my past a more than honest try. sometimes i succeed very well, and other times i can't drag my mind away from it. i'm torn because there's something that's a risk and something that's not a risk, and both are things i like a lot, but the risk is something almost irresistible. i can choose only one or the other. i have chosen one and then i chose another, though. choices are changeable; i've proven that. but how often should i change them, if at all, and what are the repercussions? each time i do something thinking i'm doing the right thing, afterwards i'm never completely sure. like now. i'm not sure at all. sometimes i think i am, but really, i'm not, because these doubts are here often and may be here permanently. it doesn't help that i'm actively being pulled in two opposite directions, both of which have their very distinct pros and cons, and i don't always know which is better.
i feel very tormented lately because i have to smile and act like i'm perfectly content, but in actuality, all i'm trying to do is find the most efficient way to claw my way out of everything. i try to write poetry, and i get stuck halfway through ebcause i'm too worked up to write; the emotions are there and they're way too strong for me to articulate into something understandable. i've even tried getting drunk and writing, a la elliott smith, and even that hasn't helped (it's just made me gag on the shot and get sleepy and head to bed). the few people i trust enough--they're going to tire of my indecisiveness, my relentless introspection and analyzation. even i'm getting tired of it myself. it would be so nice to escape being me for a while, just leave my body lying in bed and slip out of it like it's a shell and go somewhere and do something very un-me.
i need to figure everything out with this situation. that's one of my new year's resolutions. it's going to take a while. the other resolution is to write poetry every day so that maybe i can actually get published. yeah, that's worked out really well so far, hasn't it?