Skip to main content

Revelation II

I have troubles accepting things as they are. I'm always trying to place events and feelings into strict categories, where if it's not one it's the other, but it's never like that. I can't accept the beauty of imperfection, though that's what life is all about. I'm always looking for justification and for deeper meaning when maybe there's only face value, or things aren't meant to fit perfectly. This problem arises in the endless search for "the one". All of my close friends, and myself, search for something permanent and meaningful, someone perfect to spend eternity with. Who knows what's out there, maybe there isn't that "perfect" soulmate, there will always be differences, but the way we cope with the differences between us is what makes us able to love and be loved, open ourselves up and be vulnurable to someone. Vulnurable..Such a scary thought yet a completely liberating one. I have problems letting go. Be it emotional baggage, a severe attachment to some element in my life, or be it letting go of inner barriers or inhibitions. I've built myself up to cope with this ugly world and I'm afraid to loosen the bolts, in fear of completely falling to shambles. So I keep myself tightly together and when I find someone I could open myself up to I have to make sure it's something lasting incase I'm ripped open and I need them to not be afraid of what is deep inside my mind, and be able to fix me again.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough ...
2 comments
Read more

zip.

I dread human contact. I absolutely hate it. I hate having to think of something to say, hate having to feign interest and sympathy. It's a stressful situation and I don't even know why. I guess it's the culmination of all my antisocial tendencies over the years. Once you get into a habit it gets harder and harder to change as time goes by. I've always been the shy one, the quiet one. The exception is my friends. I'm talkative and at ease with the people I like. I love my friends and I love having friends, but I dread making them. It's like it's too much effort to be worth it. All the awkward getting to know eachothers and stuff, I'd rather just avoid it completely. But it's getting me into trouble. People think I'm arrogant, too good to talk to them. Or that I hate them. Such is the case with my mother. She's been living at her parent's house, and so I rarely see her. That suited me fine, because less interactions the better. So whenever...
2 comments
Read more

Home

I looked back at blog entries, and even though the subject matter was less than pleasant to be reminded of, it was still good, I'm glad I have written reminders so I have points of reference to gauge my growth. And I've come far. I often feel like I've had three stages in my life. The first was with Brent, and though I was a newborn in love's eyes, I soon grew to an extremely old age. My heart was always cracked and my spirit became dulled. I became clogged with darkness, became tired and dragged myself through the days. But I never stopped. I stubbornly sacrificed myself each day for someone whom I thought it was going to help. I was wrong. The first day of my second stage was the day I stopped caring about him and finally focused on myself. I was free, and I was drunk with it. Too drunk. I dove into something that made me happy, too quick. I soon realized there were other ways to get hurt. this stage wasn't that defining, though I began to learn to take things as ...
2 comments
Read more