(no subject)
Sitting and hearing the birds chirp, while my brain is all naked timbers, and styrophome, is a strange feeling. And listening to Jewel. Who was weird upon weird, and my sister idolized her. Successful, impersonal weirdness is ok, but not my breed. Not to my sister. The person I can never please, and so it haunts me, and so I talk about it. Against a wall of tears, when your throat closes up and you feel so full of a sensation that your finger tips hurt, you're helpless. We value our time, and keep it to ourselves. And do nothing with it, not even for ourselves. Every time you're mean to someone, you take something away from them. You take and leave nothing. Don't you understand that people are made of only so much? That if people keep taking, they are left with nothing to rebuild with. And what are you? Bigger. In bulk but not in heart. The heart shrinks.
You can't sit around feeling guilty for another universe.
When you become what you think they want, you're losing. When they get you just the way they want you, you've lost.
It's all connected to the way you grew up. I mean, me, looks play a big part. I never had brains, but I had opposites. She was big, I was smaller. She was messy, I was cleaner. She was brilliant, I was lagging.
I am everything I ever wanted but it will be so hard to accept that, for many many years, I think. When will I stop killing myself for things that are beautiful, more beautiful, I think, then what I am now. Why do I aspire to everything, when just right here is really something. When will I come to terms with the bad, and embrace everything else. That may entail a substance as pure as water. That I dilute every day.
You can't sit around feeling guilty for another universe.
When you become what you think they want, you're losing. When they get you just the way they want you, you've lost.
It's all connected to the way you grew up. I mean, me, looks play a big part. I never had brains, but I had opposites. She was big, I was smaller. She was messy, I was cleaner. She was brilliant, I was lagging.
I am everything I ever wanted but it will be so hard to accept that, for many many years, I think. When will I stop killing myself for things that are beautiful, more beautiful, I think, then what I am now. Why do I aspire to everything, when just right here is really something. When will I come to terms with the bad, and embrace everything else. That may entail a substance as pure as water. That I dilute every day.