(no subject)
This is real.
I'm not playing a game, anymore. Things are getting serious. But with this seriousness comes a sense of...boredom. I can easily go through the motions, but can I find inspiration behind them? Doubtful. If I was in a different time, in a different place, I would swoon for him without having to question myself. Outcomes are never what you need when you don't fit into your body.
I hate myself for not being able to express how I feel, other than in abstract phrases and descriptions that make no more sense than what I'm feeling.
My daily agenda is this. Walk to class. Walk from class, to another class. Walk somewhere else. I'm always walking. Something I realized, the other day (while I was walking), is that I find a subtle joy in planning my path around puddles. I smile a little when I find the steps to take to completely avoid stepping in water. And this, alas, is the highlight of many days. Are the small, almost unnoticed joys what count? Specifically, do the trivial accomplishments through the day add up to equal any one large joy I can receive? Should they weigh more than they do? I can't really tell. It's all banal and none of it matters.
I sometimes wonder if people would call me eccentric. Or maybe stupid.
Have you ever thrown emotion into someone, but not been devoted to them? I have a friend who is dating someone he doesn't love (but she thinks he thinks she's "the one"). He's lying to her, like he lied to me. Feeding her lines of love and admiration. Telling her he's sickened without her; how sick she will be when she knows the truth. Oh, how Karma claps her delicate hands! Act Two is retribution at its finest for our Hero, and I can't wait for the finale. He should have known not to let me go.
A day-to-day girl daring to stray.
This is real.
I'm not playing a game, anymore. Things are getting serious. But with this seriousness comes a sense of...boredom. I can easily go through the motions, but can I find inspiration behind them? Doubtful. If I was in a different time, in a different place, I would swoon for him without having to question myself. Outcomes are never what you need when you don't fit into your body.
I hate myself for not being able to express how I feel, other than in abstract phrases and descriptions that make no more sense than what I'm feeling.
My daily agenda is this. Walk to class. Walk from class, to another class. Walk somewhere else. I'm always walking. Something I realized, the other day (while I was walking), is that I find a subtle joy in planning my path around puddles. I smile a little when I find the steps to take to completely avoid stepping in water. And this, alas, is the highlight of many days. Are the small, almost unnoticed joys what count? Specifically, do the trivial accomplishments through the day add up to equal any one large joy I can receive? Should they weigh more than they do? I can't really tell. It's all banal and none of it matters.
I sometimes wonder if people would call me eccentric. Or maybe stupid.
Have you ever thrown emotion into someone, but not been devoted to them? I have a friend who is dating someone he doesn't love (but she thinks he thinks she's "the one"). He's lying to her, like he lied to me. Feeding her lines of love and admiration. Telling her he's sickened without her; how sick she will be when she knows the truth. Oh, how Karma claps her delicate hands! Act Two is retribution at its finest for our Hero, and I can't wait for the finale. He should have known not to let me go.
A day-to-day girl daring to stray.
This is real.