Already failed
Just kidding about that last post - it was kind of sarcastic anyway.
I mean, I'll write stuff, but you don't have to read it. And if you do, it might be because you care.
I'm insecure
and childish.
I get bored easily
and when people stare
at me
I think they're thinking
bad things.
I try not to lean on anyone
but be independent.
But I can't do that
No one - ok, only one-
talks about religion
and philosphies to me.
And it's not even Dave.
I can't seem to grasp anything.
No one's worries to help.
No fears to relieve.
Am I loved though I
cuss?
Even though I'm not good at
math and physics?
That I can't grasp the future?
That people scare me?
My mind slips a lot -
to the point where I don't
know where I'm going
what I'm doing.
I stare at an empty hand and bones.
I try not to be empty
To laugh even though its bland.
So I can find hope
sometimes.
What's so good about that?
What can I do with that?
What can I become?
I'm tossed aside
many times.
Jealous
Angry
Yet, lovely.
Lovely. Cute. Momentairly.
And what can I do with that?
I'm not philosophical, I'm
not mathmatically
gifted.
I'm not even gifted
with words.
with feelings
maybe.
I can't seem to get anything across
to the point
where people yell
and cry and
no answers.
Any what can I do?
Wait.
Pretend to hope.
I'm fluxuating-
a roller coaster
in my head.
Maybe I just
feel too much
to comprehend it all.
Silent.
I'm not hurt
because there's
nothing to be
harmed by.
There's just an empty silence
that I look to you for
even though I don't want to.
I have to be strong,
don't I?
Don't I always?
Isn't that what I do?
No.
I fall apart. And it isn't
until you fall apart
yell and scream
that I realise what I
have to do.
But how
can I help
when no one turns
to my arms
and voice?
Not even you.
And isn't it funny
how the tears
magnify everything?
So, that was during English that I wrote that. I fell into a slump. A bad one, really. Don't know what happened. One moment I'm alright - decent, and then next, I'm empty and scared and tired and morose. Maybe it was because I knew what my research paper grade was - that it was bad - before I even got it? Sometimes I'm just cool like that.
No.
I'm just weird.
I'm just bitter and angry. A lot, recently.
Huge fights,
don't help any either. But maybe they do - maybe the sandpaper on an open wound will end
and I'll be able to heal.
I don't really know what's wrong, I really don't. I fall into slumps. Very bad slumps. Depression? Insomia? I don't want to be classified by some disease, I don't want to be some sickness.
C
Average.
I don't want to be that.
B
Even. Bad enough.
Can't I be something?
Can't I be extraordinary?
Can't I be someone?
Do soap-opera's teach love
to the children
of mothers?
So these are my thoughts -
random and unorganized.
Drifting in and out of a somewhat
clumsy mind
that doesn't want to be clumsy
anymore.
M&M's in a bowl
that overflow and spill
over the sides
and onto the floor
as I watch and pick them up
one by one
alone and alone.
And maybe my tears
will wash the little letters away
but they're my problems.
and I'll cry over them and scream over them
but they're not the worst
and I'll move on soon enough
just give me my time.
No time for anger or anything.
No time to be bitter.
So I'll use all the will I have
so that I can enjoy and try
to live.
Because I'll move on eventually,
even though sometimes I think I can't.
I can't dwell on the past
or worry about the ten-year future.
I have to live by the day during the day.
Hour by Hour.
Minute by Minute.
Sadness, happiness- I have to take it as it comes.
Which sucks sometimes,
but it's what it is.
I'm not special,
I'm not anything,
but I forgive and forget-
I try.
I don't know why you say it's so loving
it's not.
It just is.
I mean, I'll write stuff, but you don't have to read it. And if you do, it might be because you care.
I'm insecure
and childish.
I get bored easily
and when people stare
at me
I think they're thinking
bad things.
I try not to lean on anyone
but be independent.
But I can't do that
No one - ok, only one-
talks about religion
and philosphies to me.
And it's not even Dave.
I can't seem to grasp anything.
No one's worries to help.
No fears to relieve.
Am I loved though I
cuss?
Even though I'm not good at
math and physics?
That I can't grasp the future?
That people scare me?
My mind slips a lot -
to the point where I don't
know where I'm going
what I'm doing.
I stare at an empty hand and bones.
I try not to be empty
To laugh even though its bland.
So I can find hope
sometimes.
What's so good about that?
What can I do with that?
What can I become?
I'm tossed aside
many times.
Jealous
Angry
Yet, lovely.
Lovely. Cute. Momentairly.
And what can I do with that?
I'm not philosophical, I'm
not mathmatically
gifted.
I'm not even gifted
with words.
with feelings
maybe.
I can't seem to get anything across
to the point
where people yell
and cry and
no answers.
Any what can I do?
Wait.
Pretend to hope.
I'm fluxuating-
a roller coaster
in my head.
Maybe I just
feel too much
to comprehend it all.
Silent.
I'm not hurt
because there's
nothing to be
harmed by.
There's just an empty silence
that I look to you for
even though I don't want to.
I have to be strong,
don't I?
Don't I always?
Isn't that what I do?
No.
I fall apart. And it isn't
until you fall apart
yell and scream
that I realise what I
have to do.
But how
can I help
when no one turns
to my arms
and voice?
Not even you.
And isn't it funny
how the tears
magnify everything?
So, that was during English that I wrote that. I fell into a slump. A bad one, really. Don't know what happened. One moment I'm alright - decent, and then next, I'm empty and scared and tired and morose. Maybe it was because I knew what my research paper grade was - that it was bad - before I even got it? Sometimes I'm just cool like that.
No.
I'm just weird.
I'm just bitter and angry. A lot, recently.
Huge fights,
don't help any either. But maybe they do - maybe the sandpaper on an open wound will end
and I'll be able to heal.
I don't really know what's wrong, I really don't. I fall into slumps. Very bad slumps. Depression? Insomia? I don't want to be classified by some disease, I don't want to be some sickness.
C
Average.
I don't want to be that.
B
Even. Bad enough.
Can't I be something?
Can't I be extraordinary?
Can't I be someone?
Do soap-opera's teach love
to the children
of mothers?
So these are my thoughts -
random and unorganized.
Drifting in and out of a somewhat
clumsy mind
that doesn't want to be clumsy
anymore.
M&M's in a bowl
that overflow and spill
over the sides
and onto the floor
as I watch and pick them up
one by one
alone and alone.
And maybe my tears
will wash the little letters away
but they're my problems.
and I'll cry over them and scream over them
but they're not the worst
and I'll move on soon enough
just give me my time.
No time for anger or anything.
No time to be bitter.
So I'll use all the will I have
so that I can enjoy and try
to live.
Because I'll move on eventually,
even though sometimes I think I can't.
I can't dwell on the past
or worry about the ten-year future.
I have to live by the day during the day.
Hour by Hour.
Minute by Minute.
Sadness, happiness- I have to take it as it comes.
Which sucks sometimes,
but it's what it is.
I'm not special,
I'm not anything,
but I forgive and forget-
I try.
I don't know why you say it's so loving
it's not.
It just is.