i fear how great i can be
It's no secret. I have commitment issues. Not to anyone, but to myself. I can't commit to me. I'm afraid of everything and anything that passes through my head. And living blanketed in constant fear is something that can burn through anyone over time. But I think we all have commitment issues, and there's something to be shared here.
We're all a little hesitant, whether it be choosing how to spend $20 for a day or how to tell her "I didn't mean it". It's tough to feel safe in anything that can't be totally reliant on ourselves. That's why we find it so hard to trust people. And that's also why we can't trust those who've lost our trust through what they've done. It's too damaging in a "told-ya-so" kind of way, that you just tell yourself, "I knew I shouldn't have." And really, that's the saddest part of it all.
I'm unable to commit to my own well-being, because to me it's just "a matter of time". And that's why I do it, that's why I choose abuse. That's why I wish I could hurt so bad. So I can, for just a minute feel like I'm on top of the world. And it makes it worth it. The lonely mornings, the nervous afternoons, and all that accompanies me along the way. Because I know there's something to look forward to. And I don't care if it kills me, because it makes me so happy. Maybe that's wrong, but I can't turn back now. It tastes amazing.
And I can't decide. Is my career supposed to be a matter of passion, prestige or security? Why can't I have all 3? Impossible, I say. If you find someone who claims it, I assure you they feel pain like no one can compare to. Because at the end of the day a fairy tale is just a story closing at a high point, but we know life goes longer beyond that ending. And I'm a film-making writer who feels like he's outgrown video games, but finding a way out of this is easier said than done. I have seven thousand reasons to live miserably, and that's just enough for me. I don't know if I want happy, but I know I want money. At least enough to get by for a while. And ma, I know you want it all and you look at me like I can deliver. But that kills me, and I can only hate myself for that. And then I wonder why I couldn't just be a young, promising figure who dies too early with guns blazing?
My indecision, my hesitance and my disregard for anything superficial. Bad habits, or typical regime? Nothing gained, nothing lost. I want love, but I'm starting to think I don't deserve it. And then I remember, there is no love. At least not the kind that Barney or The Beatles' referred to. But that's why we write about it, that's why we sing about it. It's like world peace; a universal goal to which everyone can approve. But we've got a long way to go. And I don't think the modern world is ready for that kind of love. Simply, because we can't commit.
We're all a little hesitant, whether it be choosing how to spend $20 for a day or how to tell her "I didn't mean it". It's tough to feel safe in anything that can't be totally reliant on ourselves. That's why we find it so hard to trust people. And that's also why we can't trust those who've lost our trust through what they've done. It's too damaging in a "told-ya-so" kind of way, that you just tell yourself, "I knew I shouldn't have." And really, that's the saddest part of it all.
I'm unable to commit to my own well-being, because to me it's just "a matter of time". And that's why I do it, that's why I choose abuse. That's why I wish I could hurt so bad. So I can, for just a minute feel like I'm on top of the world. And it makes it worth it. The lonely mornings, the nervous afternoons, and all that accompanies me along the way. Because I know there's something to look forward to. And I don't care if it kills me, because it makes me so happy. Maybe that's wrong, but I can't turn back now. It tastes amazing.
And I can't decide. Is my career supposed to be a matter of passion, prestige or security? Why can't I have all 3? Impossible, I say. If you find someone who claims it, I assure you they feel pain like no one can compare to. Because at the end of the day a fairy tale is just a story closing at a high point, but we know life goes longer beyond that ending. And I'm a film-making writer who feels like he's outgrown video games, but finding a way out of this is easier said than done. I have seven thousand reasons to live miserably, and that's just enough for me. I don't know if I want happy, but I know I want money. At least enough to get by for a while. And ma, I know you want it all and you look at me like I can deliver. But that kills me, and I can only hate myself for that. And then I wonder why I couldn't just be a young, promising figure who dies too early with guns blazing?
My indecision, my hesitance and my disregard for anything superficial. Bad habits, or typical regime? Nothing gained, nothing lost. I want love, but I'm starting to think I don't deserve it. And then I remember, there is no love. At least not the kind that Barney or The Beatles' referred to. But that's why we write about it, that's why we sing about it. It's like world peace; a universal goal to which everyone can approve. But we've got a long way to go. And I don't think the modern world is ready for that kind of love. Simply, because we can't commit.