please don't reply to this, simply read and leave it lie.
i feel out of sorts. i feel ashamed. i feel sleepy and far from reality. always a good time to write. my journal is still in kentucky and i have not been able to write lately, which leads me to believe nothing i have written recently is even a true reflection of my underlying thoughts. i am a liar in my own journal. what does it mean when i can't be honest with myself? have i lost who i am? or have i simply lost touch with what i've always stood for? i think the answer is grey...i feel grey and murky. no longer crisp and vibrant. just lurking beneath the surface. i feel like a disappointment to no one other than myself and i question what it will take to come beyond.
in life, things start small. always, small and simple. but i feel i've allowed problems to compound for so long that i don't need a nip and tuck, i'd like a new body please. i lost it today when looking in the mirror, that has never happened. however, i have never been in such poor shape. physically...mentally...spiritually...financially...and everything in between. how can someonen like myself become so far removed from who i truly am? i'm shocked, angry...and overwhelmingly confused. i have roll lines on my tummy that was once toned and flat, my face without makeup is a scarred mass of flesh. i have a double chin and cheeks that have never felt so full, i think the horrible things i hid deep inside are comming out to haunt me. but i also feel i deserve it and that everyone needs to know what i've become to myself.
i don't feel like i've betrayed anyone around me. i've been honest with them and our relationships, i feel like i've betrayed myself and only myself. and i know that must somehow affect them...or maybe i'm just about to blow. i haven't painted in over a year maybe even two... i haven't taken any of the photos i wanted to, and now no more gallery show. i haven't written truly, honestly, deeply in quite sometime. and i blame it all on that year. that year alone in the orchards, when i worked for the bank, when i sacraficed who i was for a price so cheap i nearly threw myself away for free. i think it happened in the blink of an eye. like some subconsious decision to simply throw it all away...and the sad part is, i don't even remember making it. it must have been around june 2004...because that's relatively the time i lost conciousness. i feel as if i have been in a coma, and i've not quite come to. like shaped are blurred and the person who i am supposed to be is shocked and appalled that no one pulled the plug. i'd rather be dead. dead than live the lie that is inside me. i question everything. i talk shit constantly. i am ugly from inside out and i don't understand how it happened. the worst part is i don't know where to start...or how to...the questioning gets deeper and deeper and i realize i've completely lost touch with myself. i tip toe between whether or not an attempt to start again is hopelsess, or if i should just jump. listen to my heart again. cry when i need to, sell the shit i don't need...lose the weight i've gained in pain...one step, geronimo.
in life, things start small. always, small and simple. but i feel i've allowed problems to compound for so long that i don't need a nip and tuck, i'd like a new body please. i lost it today when looking in the mirror, that has never happened. however, i have never been in such poor shape. physically...mentally...spiritually...financially...and everything in between. how can someonen like myself become so far removed from who i truly am? i'm shocked, angry...and overwhelmingly confused. i have roll lines on my tummy that was once toned and flat, my face without makeup is a scarred mass of flesh. i have a double chin and cheeks that have never felt so full, i think the horrible things i hid deep inside are comming out to haunt me. but i also feel i deserve it and that everyone needs to know what i've become to myself.
i don't feel like i've betrayed anyone around me. i've been honest with them and our relationships, i feel like i've betrayed myself and only myself. and i know that must somehow affect them...or maybe i'm just about to blow. i haven't painted in over a year maybe even two... i haven't taken any of the photos i wanted to, and now no more gallery show. i haven't written truly, honestly, deeply in quite sometime. and i blame it all on that year. that year alone in the orchards, when i worked for the bank, when i sacraficed who i was for a price so cheap i nearly threw myself away for free. i think it happened in the blink of an eye. like some subconsious decision to simply throw it all away...and the sad part is, i don't even remember making it. it must have been around june 2004...because that's relatively the time i lost conciousness. i feel as if i have been in a coma, and i've not quite come to. like shaped are blurred and the person who i am supposed to be is shocked and appalled that no one pulled the plug. i'd rather be dead. dead than live the lie that is inside me. i question everything. i talk shit constantly. i am ugly from inside out and i don't understand how it happened. the worst part is i don't know where to start...or how to...the questioning gets deeper and deeper and i realize i've completely lost touch with myself. i tip toe between whether or not an attempt to start again is hopelsess, or if i should just jump. listen to my heart again. cry when i need to, sell the shit i don't need...lose the weight i've gained in pain...one step, geronimo.