This is fucking ridiculous. How many times will I have to tell myself? Got… to… let… go. Maybe writing is keeping closure out of reach. To put it down, to read it, to have it read. It’s out, in words. The weight is off to some extent. But I don’t feel like I’ve dealt with anything seriously. Maybe I don’t need to? And there it goes again, circling, waiting for my guard to be down, for my thoughts to be available. The questions, the fucking questions. Why didn’t I, should I, have I, will I? Back to avoidance. I used to do it on purpose. It became a habit, now it happens without me having to make the effort. And outside, looking at the fucking questions, comes another one, a new one. Am I really feeling better, or am I avoiding my issues just because I can? And this is the one question I hate the most. And the one I’m not sure I want to come up with an answer to.
Further, deeper, I wander, wonder. Will I change if I face everything? In a weird way, sometimes I think my dark half makes me whole. Growing up, accepting, dealing. Won’t that make me a different person? Because with all my shit, my big ego, my smart mouth, my detachement from everyone else, I like me. What does “coming to terms with” mean anyway? If we really are a product of our childhood, I’d be dead today, a spike in my arm. That was never me. I never saw myself in all the people that filled my early life. I saw everything from outside and only today, at 35, do I realize it was me, it was who I was going to be, that was there. And I knew. So to what extent did everything affect me? Maybe not that much. Maybe a whole fucking lot.
It is very dark sometimes, more than I can translate into words. But I’m not sure it has to do with the past. I’m not sure it has anything to do anything. Maybe it’s just who I am.
Sometimes hungry, sometimes filled. My own balance.
If I were to say anything, I wonder if that would make me The Pot and you The Kettle?
There is no balance between hunger and filled, they are both extremes. Satisfied is the balance. I’m thinking you already know that though.
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Okay this time without the promo,
I’m not perfect-Missy Elliott
we’ve been through things
feels like we’ve been to hell and back
and the ones you’ve lost
i’d give my life if i could bring them back
(bring them back, id give, my life)
and your self-esteem
might be low from what people say
(keep holding on)
hold your head up high
promise its gonna be ok
(Chorus)
im not perfect just like you
so come on let me give you a hug
i got problems just like you
so dont nobody sit here and judge
im not perfect just like you
so come on let me give you a hug
i got problems just like you
and everybody needs some love
When your feeling bad
some friends they cant be found
(look around, look around, be found)
’cause some people love it
just to see you when your down
(down yeah)
but its ok pick yourself up
start over again
(thats what you gotta do)
If you try you will,
you will suceed in the end
(i know you will)
(chorus)
shake a hand
shake a hand y’all
(o shake somebodys hand)
to every woman every man y’all
(to every woman every man)
tell a friend
tell a friend y’all
’cause united we stand y’all
im not perfect just like u (x4)
spyder: yes of course. but to have the freedom to put the weights on either side…
stephaine: thank you so much 🙂 no mushy stuff, but really, thank you.
i’d like to say ‘i know what you mean’, but then i’m not sure you’ll believe me.
i think it damn near takes destroying yourself to be free of yourself. i’ve touched it a few times, but i always turn my back. because what happens is i see this little girl who has been inside me all along and she is angry and alone and i am the only one she has and i have this desperate need to protect her but i know in order to be free, to be happy, i have to let her die and i don’t have the heart to do it.
for now, my response is to stop thinking
-l
l., thanks so much for that. and I do believe you. you have great insight. that gets me to thinking that maybe that’s where I’m at… turning my back and stop thinking for a while.