Perhaps you are going through this, perhaps you might go through it in the future, maybe in the past, maybe never at all. Expectations pile on you like you did the world wrong.
Why can’t you be like her? Confident and strong, open and daring in fashion style and attitude? Why are you such cowardly bullshit in comparison? Why ? Or maybe you shouldn’t be like her after all! Straightforward and studious. You’re too young to be daring, wouldn’t be able to control yourself after all, you’d be a disaster, unlike her, well.
The other her is in comparison a better option to be like? Won’t you learn to be like her? Hardworking and all that? It’s the attitude! The attitude! Calm composure? Too hard for you perhaps no.
No. Be like him. He’s like the perfect person to be like. Though perhaps overconfident a little but otherwise perfect. Unlike you well,in every way.
At least you seem to be kind.
Being like this won’t get you anywhere. Your uselessness won’t get you anywhere. Have you heard of that girl? What she’s done ? What she had started?
Why can’t you learn. Why are you still so useless. Why can’t you? Why aren’t you? What are you? What am I?
What if I don’t want to be compared with anyone? So what if I won’t make it in life? So what if I end up alone and rotting away in a corner of nobody wants and nobody likes? Does the world care? Will the world judge?
Why can’t you learn to be like them?
Why cant you be original?
What are you supposed to be trying to be?
Why are you trying at all?
If you keep getting pushed around in the rapids how far will you go till you hit the waterfalls. What if even then it’s not the end? What if that’s just life?
By this time on earth we would have probably figured out that the grass is never greenest at our feet so why shouldn’t we give up and move to a rock? “You’ll never catch up with the rest of them” well SORRY for being such a loser, but it’s not like outrunning them would give my existence MEANING.
"What about you?" Is a common rebut because we KNOW that you aren’t any better, did you work hard? Did you not? Did you consider coming to our side of the fence? The side where the losers,outcasts and freaks stand un-united? Perhaps in your jolly world of what should be right you are alone as well.
Love songs don’t mean anything when there isn’t anything to feel. Even breakup songs or heartbreak songs, unrequited love songs or even stalker songs don’t mean anything. What does it mean when you listen to the pain of forgiving and letting go, the hate in betrayal, and all you feel is empty jealousy. Scream at the too of your lungs to try to understand your own heart then realise it’s 2am and the walls aren’t sound proof and there’s civilization around. Let’s not sleep tonight. Let’s converse with yourself till daybreak shall we? Dammit I’m starting to sound like smeagol
The thing about holidays is you get to see so few people, most of which you don’t actually want to see, that you get so increasingly comfortable in your own company. New people, old friends, new traditions, rejections, coldness. Your existence in a new place is to the extent of a visitor. So WHY NOT?
No. Don’t go begging to stay, there are better things to do, like escape, like live, like treat yourself well. If there’s something to learn, you can learn it, even alone. Don’t go grabbing other’s tails,no. Not even if it means you ain’t gonna see anyone for the rest of the week or month. I AINT GOING BACK TO THAT HELLHOLE. And I’m tired of pretending.
New plans and new goals. This just shows how reasons don’t sit with you. Don’t go forcing yourself to believe if you know it’s an act. What can you trust? What can you believe in? Perhaps deep down you know. Perhaps deep down you understand that by letting this go you have OFFICIALLY no one to turn to. SO WHAT?
Is it bad to turn away from communication and civilization? Is it really that bad? Is it not just the expectation of all the other sardines packed in the city-can hoping that you rot in that crap with them? How do you spend this time that you have? What time?
What it means to be stranded. In a pot full of boiling glares and random vegetables that don’t care but still you’re different. The new meat in the pot of conversations and games you don’t know and you’re just that bit too tired of pretending to fit in. So you wash away in the rain finding a corner to talk to yourself and you realize the cold glares comes from your own eyes. You’re the fridge in the fireplace that’s burning you down not the other way round but you’re too tired to try to turn in around.
Push the blame around I want to go home to a place where I fit in a bed that I own. The fireplace is out of your sight but you can still hear the warmth which is too complete for another extra piece to fit in.
But you’re not going to get anywhere by sitting aside and you know it. Like the day before and the day before that. Must you paint the smile on your face and squeeze a place to fit in?
You know you can’t keep holding on to the only thing you know but everything is taken and you’re back on your own.
You tell yourself that you should get away, to another pot of fire, a different place. But, you know it’s just gonna be the same, just gonna stick around and wait for backs to turn away.
On days when one lies alone to observe the starless skies, one may realize that it may in fact not be starless at all. Laughter from the jokes you don’t get of the people of a different wavelength. Disappearing back to the starless skies and the usual conversations that only last when one is apart. The brightness of the stars have died down.
When one is alone with the sky, the need to appear cheerful has come to pass. The loneliness you cover with tiredness and the need for rest. Are your smiles fake as well? Is your laughter a cover up as well? There exists a missing star you long to forget and might never. The stars are gone.
Agh I guess there are times like this. you get so excited about something alone, then realize that you are too alone to ask someone to be excited with you. What’s a friend? What are insecurities? How am I supposed to handle myself?
I guess there are things that you want so much that you end up dreaming about it. “I give up waiting” you want to say, but somehow you still are, though there are no prospects of change. Somebody. Somebody in this whole wide world with… I don’t even know how many people there are… Not a single one holds a tag “reserved for me”. Am I reserved for anyone? Rely on yourself. Seek yourself. Use yourself.
Everyone’s getting busy. Arrangements, this and that, Getting jobs, making plans, today, tomorrow. I don’t want to move. For reasons… I don’t want to tell.
I don’t even know what it feels like, other than in a dream that is. But that feeling stays in the dream. Is it too late? Reality says you’re not up to it. Wait for it, wait for it.you’ve waited your whole life and now you want it more than ever. There’s nothing to wait for. Your imaginary friend, he does not exist.
This suffocating area called your own. You’re not moving are you? For days for months for years. You’re not changing are you? Still the same as ever, choking on your own mistakes and problems. You only can’t see them cause they’ve sunken too deep into your consciousness.
At times like this where can you turn? This small little speck called you refusing to turn at angles, allow yourself to be pushed around like specks of dirt, expecting to somehow be pushed away from where you are. But here we are again, square one, no more no less.