God, I'm messing up.
I'm not sure how to tell, actually.
So I really don't know.
But I'm so afraid.
I'm more afraid of this than anything else in my life currently. It may not mean as much to my bystanders. But it means alot to me.
I think I'm messing up.
Or maybe I just listen to what other people say too much..
"Well if you do that, this will happen."
Every situation's different, though. Everyone is different. So how do they know? Well I guess they know more than me, because they've been through something remotely similar.. I'm not sure if I should just go with the flow, or listen to my warnings, and back up a little, from the water's edge.
I don't want to mess this up, though.
I don't want to lose it.
I don't want all of this to end up meaning absolutely nothing.
Why do I feel like I'm messing up?
I think it's because the things we're taught about in our early years really do mean something. They're not lying when they say it's a big deal.
The awful part about it is, you only really notice it after it's all over with. After it's too late. Then it hits you fucking hard.
God, I'm scared.
The light from my old-model, classical monitor is the only thing that is illuminating my room. Being right next to the window, sometimes I'm driven to be inquisitive about whether or not my shadow is being displayed to those finding themselves walking down the sidewalk right outside.
Tonight I find myself exasperated. My defense is the main reason, currently. And tonight it has just come to my attention. Why do I have to defend myself so much, to people I don't even take to? It seems like such a waste of energy. Though, I've never taken conscious note of that in the past.
I noticed it as I began to initiate yet another quarrel about nothing. And it struck me, all of the sudden, as aimless. A completely trivial attempt at reason.
Maybe in the depths of myself, though, I do care. Maybe it really does bother me, if people get the wrong idea, or are misinformed. Why, though? Why can't I just say "fuck 'em" and move on? I truely haven't the slightest concern about them, their lives, or their feelings. Not if they toss mine to the side with such ease. A waste of time, they are. A waste of energy.
And yet still it bothers me. But perhaps this avowel is the start of something big. And maybe it will have a lasting effect on me, and my self-worth. Maybe from now on, I will move on, and not care.
Maybe I'll stop wasting time trying to explain myself, for something that I meant to do.
There is this feeling tonight, in the depths of me. I'm not sure what it is, or why it's there. But I'm hoping that the more I begin to compose this, the more it will begin to exhibit itself, so that I may understand it.
I'm becoming rather tired of my box, and the things I hold inside of it. I'm tired of these unknown plagues that flare up, and their bad timing.
I think tonight, it's just a mixture of everything. And I feel like breaking down. I feel like letting down my guard, and not worrying about being weak, for now. I'm not sure what it will help, though. I've done this many times in the past, and it never makes any sort of difference. It doesn't help solve anything. It just relieves me for another few weeks or so, until I find myself back in this slump.
I'm not sure what to do with my box. But I'm getting tired of looking at it. I don't know how to rid myself of it, though. I've told a select few people of it's presence, and some of the things it holds, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I don't necessarily like sympathy. Some told me it would help, though, so I gave it a shot. But it never solved anything.
And so now I'm stuck here, with this box still in my lap. And I'm finding that it's becoming increasingly heavy. So much so, that it's becoming a bit too heavy to push to the side, even.
I don't want it anymore, though. I'm tired of the constant reminders. I just want to live my life in composure, as much as possible.
But I can't get rid of this box..
It's an oddity,
How this all came to be.
How perfect you were,
How you still saw me.
You made me dance that day. And ever since then, I've felt poetic. Fluid.
There are things about my past that you don't know. Things that have helped to shape me, good and bad. But maybe it's for the better that you remain oblivious. Either way, you're with me, and so you'll see it.
There's this wall that, over time, I've constructed. And everytime I try and break more of it down, I become more exhausted.
But you aid me with that in so many ways. You've created this balance in my life.
I'm almost embarassed to say that, for the first time, I'm afraid of losing that. But at the same time, this is also the first time I've never had doubts.
It's not because of what we've been through. That would hardly make a difference to me. It's simply, you.
You are revolutionary.
I ejected a bit of something this morning, into my rippling reflection from the toilet water I was staring into. I felt a little better afterwards.
My nerves are on edge.
It's pouring outside,
and I wish he'd come home.
I don't want him to get hurt.