hmm...thoughts
Sometimes I wish, that I wasn't me. That I didn't have to put up with people, you know. I sometimes wish I was different. Where I could survive, just me, all by myself. I don't think you understand, I put so much pressure on myself. Always criticizing, never complimenting. I wish I were brave. I wish I were someone else. Right now I don't know if anyone even cares (except maybe one person). I scare myself by saying that I don't need anybody. I honestly don't want them. I don't want people.
I had a revelation yesterday! "I don't like these people!" Why do I pretend to be somebody? I used to like these people. At least I think I did. Now they just bug. Maybe it is just me though. They all seem content. But honestly I don't think they are. Maybe I am just losing it. I think that may be the case... Here I am-locked in my room (like I am all the time when I am home)-just me and the dog-not smiling, not being happy-I don't know, maybe I am slipping back into the hole that I have just recently began to climb out of.
I am not a happy person. I just realized this. I have maybe two people that I actually consider my friends. I thought I was happy. I thought I was special, and for a long time I believed it.
Brian tells me the other day that he envied me sometimes. I wondered why, and he told me he wished he could talk to people. I wish I didn't. My insesant need for constant human communitcation while in public comes from my lack of contentment with myself.
I wrote something the other night...not exactly sure why, but I guess I'll post it... it's under the cut.
Sometimes, I want to fail. I see how far I can push myself to the edge of complete failure before I pull back. It's like a nose dive. I'm going to crash, but I alway pull up with my nose inches away from the ground and I end up back at my expected altitude.
What would happen if I crashed?
Would anybody mourn?
Would they just shrug it off and say, "It was bound to happen sooner or later."?
It is the latter of the two that scares me the most...or is it?
Maybe I fear the commitment, I don't know. Committment. Maybe. NO. I just figured it out. I am afraid of the responsibility that the commitment entails. I don't like to free fall like I mentioned before. It scares me. I pretend to like it though. I do it so often I have to pretend.
I get it now. I want to crash. I want to get away from the responsibility of flying my plane. Or maybe I want to see if I can get up and walk away from the ashes. I want to test my strength.
"Just let go of the controls" I tell myself, "Just let go and fall. It'll be fun."
My eyes are closed. I let go. I feel myself falling, down, towards the earth. Complete failure and I am headed right for it.
Will I be able to walk away?
Falling...
Closer....
About to.....
Was I able to walk away?
We'll never know. I did it again. The same thing that always happens. I opened my eyes. I pulled out of the nose dive. Heading back up to my specified altitude.
Dammit! I cannot even commit to crashing!
I had a revelation yesterday! "I don't like these people!" Why do I pretend to be somebody? I used to like these people. At least I think I did. Now they just bug. Maybe it is just me though. They all seem content. But honestly I don't think they are. Maybe I am just losing it. I think that may be the case... Here I am-locked in my room (like I am all the time when I am home)-just me and the dog-not smiling, not being happy-I don't know, maybe I am slipping back into the hole that I have just recently began to climb out of.
I am not a happy person. I just realized this. I have maybe two people that I actually consider my friends. I thought I was happy. I thought I was special, and for a long time I believed it.
Brian tells me the other day that he envied me sometimes. I wondered why, and he told me he wished he could talk to people. I wish I didn't. My insesant need for constant human communitcation while in public comes from my lack of contentment with myself.
I wrote something the other night...not exactly sure why, but I guess I'll post it... it's under the cut.
Sometimes, I want to fail. I see how far I can push myself to the edge of complete failure before I pull back. It's like a nose dive. I'm going to crash, but I alway pull up with my nose inches away from the ground and I end up back at my expected altitude.
What would happen if I crashed?
Would anybody mourn?
Would they just shrug it off and say, "It was bound to happen sooner or later."?
It is the latter of the two that scares me the most...or is it?
Maybe I fear the commitment, I don't know. Committment. Maybe. NO. I just figured it out. I am afraid of the responsibility that the commitment entails. I don't like to free fall like I mentioned before. It scares me. I pretend to like it though. I do it so often I have to pretend.
I get it now. I want to crash. I want to get away from the responsibility of flying my plane. Or maybe I want to see if I can get up and walk away from the ashes. I want to test my strength.
"Just let go of the controls" I tell myself, "Just let go and fall. It'll be fun."
My eyes are closed. I let go. I feel myself falling, down, towards the earth. Complete failure and I am headed right for it.
Will I be able to walk away?
Falling...
Closer....
About to.....
Was I able to walk away?
We'll never know. I did it again. The same thing that always happens. I opened my eyes. I pulled out of the nose dive. Heading back up to my specified altitude.
Dammit! I cannot even commit to crashing!