Broken Words
Peace.
That word looks stupid just writing it. It's like freedom. Both ridiculous words. They mean nothing. Consequence is a word like that too. All words that have lost meaning for me.
Take peace for example: I can't find it. I can't find it in a place, person or a time when I've ever felt at home, or happy with what I am. All I know is a feeling of recluse or displeasia. Is that even the right word? Who cares. I can't find peace, nor do I have the freedome to seek it in a more reasonable fashion. Which brings me to my next word: concequence.
There's a dictionary definition for it. But it means nothing. Just like my actions. If, for example, I ever found somewhere I belong, it wouldn't matter. I feel like I'm trapped. I can't get out of what everyone sees me as. Any action I perform that doesn't conforms precicely with the picture they've already creatued for me is of little or no consequence. So here's what I am then. Just for you, I'll lay it out and you can see what they see as the truth.
I'm the whinging, bitching, moody, clinger-on that is self-centred beyond any description and who's only dream in life is clearly only to fulfil some predetermined, self-serving cause. I'm an attention seeker. I use and abuse people. I'm a tease and a liar. I can't go more than ten minutes without somehow dragging a conversation back to myself. And to top it all off, just by writing this, it proves that not only is what I'm saying true, but that I'm also a hypocrite, because writing this makes me an emo kid.
Does that sound about right? It fucking well does, doesn't it?
I can see you all sitting there thinking: 'Shit, she's hit the nail right on the head there.' Some of you are probably wondering if it's taken me this long to figure it out, or have I always known that's how you all htink of me. Of course I've always known. But it's always been this way.
I'm always the last to hear the gossip.
The conversation always changes or stops when I enter.
People avoid me.
They tell me lies.
They never truly listen.
They lead me on.
I feel their relief when I say I'm leaving, the silent thanks that the cling-on girl will finally be out of your precious cliques.
I get told thought grapvines about how you want me away from you, away from your friends, away from your relatives; "Delete my daughter's number from your phone, I don't want you speaking to her anymore."
"I'm sorry that we left you with Angel. We would have invited you along too, but then I'd have to invite Angel too, and I couldn't stand a day with it."
Here's something to think about: The shower isn't that loud.
God,I can't think. I'm just writing, and it hurts. I spent such a long time trying to maintain and build the frontal walls around my emotions, that I neglected the walls behind me. Being stabbed through the back. Everything breaks the heart I wish I'd never had.
Her singing voice sounds like a cat with laringitis being raped by a horse.
I want to be able to spill it all. Just to lay it all out there for everyone to see and let my own castle walls crumble and crush everyone near me. Then I'll rebuild, with better walls, like the walls of Troy, or the mythical Helm's Deep. And everyone outside will be broken like me.
The angel with broken wings will heal, and she will be splendid while all other angels fall...
but i can't
i'm stuck without Freedome or Peace
stuck without consequence
the Chains won't be broken
i'll die like this
That word looks stupid just writing it. It's like freedom. Both ridiculous words. They mean nothing. Consequence is a word like that too. All words that have lost meaning for me.
Take peace for example: I can't find it. I can't find it in a place, person or a time when I've ever felt at home, or happy with what I am. All I know is a feeling of recluse or displeasia. Is that even the right word? Who cares. I can't find peace, nor do I have the freedome to seek it in a more reasonable fashion. Which brings me to my next word: concequence.
There's a dictionary definition for it. But it means nothing. Just like my actions. If, for example, I ever found somewhere I belong, it wouldn't matter. I feel like I'm trapped. I can't get out of what everyone sees me as. Any action I perform that doesn't conforms precicely with the picture they've already creatued for me is of little or no consequence. So here's what I am then. Just for you, I'll lay it out and you can see what they see as the truth.
I'm the whinging, bitching, moody, clinger-on that is self-centred beyond any description and who's only dream in life is clearly only to fulfil some predetermined, self-serving cause. I'm an attention seeker. I use and abuse people. I'm a tease and a liar. I can't go more than ten minutes without somehow dragging a conversation back to myself. And to top it all off, just by writing this, it proves that not only is what I'm saying true, but that I'm also a hypocrite, because writing this makes me an emo kid.
Does that sound about right? It fucking well does, doesn't it?
I can see you all sitting there thinking: 'Shit, she's hit the nail right on the head there.' Some of you are probably wondering if it's taken me this long to figure it out, or have I always known that's how you all htink of me. Of course I've always known. But it's always been this way.
I'm always the last to hear the gossip.
The conversation always changes or stops when I enter.
People avoid me.
They tell me lies.
They never truly listen.
They lead me on.
I feel their relief when I say I'm leaving, the silent thanks that the cling-on girl will finally be out of your precious cliques.
I get told thought grapvines about how you want me away from you, away from your friends, away from your relatives; "Delete my daughter's number from your phone, I don't want you speaking to her anymore."
"I'm sorry that we left you with Angel. We would have invited you along too, but then I'd have to invite Angel too, and I couldn't stand a day with it."
Here's something to think about: The shower isn't that loud.
God,I can't think. I'm just writing, and it hurts. I spent such a long time trying to maintain and build the frontal walls around my emotions, that I neglected the walls behind me. Being stabbed through the back. Everything breaks the heart I wish I'd never had.
Her singing voice sounds like a cat with laringitis being raped by a horse.
I want to be able to spill it all. Just to lay it all out there for everyone to see and let my own castle walls crumble and crush everyone near me. Then I'll rebuild, with better walls, like the walls of Troy, or the mythical Helm's Deep. And everyone outside will be broken like me.
The angel with broken wings will heal, and she will be splendid while all other angels fall...
but i can't
i'm stuck without Freedome or Peace
stuck without consequence
the Chains won't be broken
i'll die like this