mean

Forget you.

The minutes turn to hours. These months are moving faster then days in the year. When did that happen? When did months fly by faster then the actual days. Something is missing. Something is losing it’s place with me. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s slowly further from my reach, way beyond my grasp. If I reach for it, it’s no longer there. Disappeared into the months that move faster than the days.

Its was either you or me. You with your sad, melancholy feelings. You with your never ending excuses, line after line of lies that you word so eloquently. You against the world, or something like that. Anchors holding you down, to help you from steering off course. We were all pawns in your game of life. Another person you lined up, to shoot back down again. YOU are what matters. YOU are what holds all this clout.

You, you, and only YOU.

Selfish is, as selfish does. Cherry pick only the things that matter and that fit our needs. Everyone against you. Everyone having what you wanted. Everyone having what you needed. These countless stories of being the warrior in battle, going off to war. As always, only you.

You.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so blind? How could I have believed these stories that were mere myths to an average person. That was you. All you, right?

You.

When I no longer have to pick up the pieces of you, its becoming easier to forget you. When your ghost stops haunting my sleep, it’s easier to forget you. To leave these memories and misplace these feelings of what never was. I could never be that selfish. I could never be that petty. Maybe I was a fool in believing, a fool in deceiving all these lies. You were the master conductor of this orchestrated drama. How delicately you picked at your strings and watched people come back to you. How violently you cut those same strings when they didn’t seem to fit in your world. I could forgive you. Forgive every single perfectly worded explanation. How can I forgive a person, I am already forgetting?

If only you knew how easily people can misplace you. How easily they can forget everything. All I want is to forget everything about you. Its easy to make up mythical stories of battles and wars. Stories about the world being so tragically against you. The minutes turn to hours, the days become months, and like a well dressed villain your name seems to escape me. You are easily forgotten, and forgetting you is easily done.

5/10/2014

 

Keep on your mean side.

The older I become, the more I realize I don’t owe anyone any explanation. Its not that I want to be secretive, its that I choose to keep a part of myself private. It’s my own personal choice to pick and choose what I want people to know. If I want to share a piece of myself, its on my own terms and good graces. I shouldn’t have to explain myself and my actions. I shouldn’t have to apologize for things that are beyond my control. I shouldn’t have to pretend to be okay with things that I was never okay with to begin with. If we are all openly honest with ourselves, why do we become so secretive in the first place? I have spent a lifetime of making excuses and making apologizes, that now everything feels empty to me.

This is in no way shape or form to get on anyone’s bad side. I am not doing this on purpose or to make anyone upset. If I have to be completely honest, I don’t owe anyone any explanation.  I really don’t. If I don’t want to share my life, I have my own reasons. I know what I want to share with people and why. I don’t have any obligation to open myself up to people, if I don’t want to. I don’t mean to be rude, I don’t mean to be difficult, its just how I am. Its my own personal preference to pick and choose what I want to tell people. How I want to express myself. Its not that I am secretive, in all honesty its no one’s business but my own. What I do share does not give people an open invite to dictate what I do or judge who I am. I run my life, you do not. You are not entitled to know about my life and my whereabouts without my permission. You can make all the assumptions all you fit pleasing, but reality is you never knew me at all. We live in a world where our every whereabout is spilled out in public social forms for all to see. For everyone to comment and generate their own opinions as they see fit. It’s nobodies business but my own, why I do the things I do. It’s not in my nature to answer to anyone, or say what I am doing. I don’t have to. This is my life and I live it as I damn well please.

If I want to go on adventures every weekend, I will. If I want to move to another state without telling a single soul, I will. If I want to plan a vacation a month, I will. The only person I have to answer to is myself.

If it makes you feel better, I could make up a thousand excuses. Tell you everything you want to hear. Make everything up just to make you feel better. Even the people who know me best are people that are surprised to find something new about myself. I am not guarding myself from hurt. I am not keeping secrets from anyone. I just want to keep a piece of myself for myself without the attention of others. I am so tired of having to discuss my whereabouts to anyone. I am so tired of having to discuss why I do the things I do. My life is not some public spectacle to generate the most “likes” on the internet. I could care less about your public opinions of me and my welfare. How much money I spend, how much money I make, why I do the things I do, is my business and my business alone. Yes it is nice to do these things. Yes, I am very lucky. It’s nobodies business but my own.

If I don’t feel like sharing with the class, I won’t. If I don’t feel like telling anyone how I feel, I won’t.

None of this gives anyone a reason to think they know me best. You don’t know me, even if you think I do. If I don’t choose to share things with people doesn’t mean I haven’t been through things. Doesn’t mean that I haven’t had my own struggles and my own personal breakdowns. If I don’t share my problems on the internet doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I just choose to deal with them on my own, the best way I can. When I am ready to tell the world how I feel, I will. When I am ready to be open, I will. Until that moment, I will keep to myself and keep our of your way.

If it keeps on your mean side so be it. I am only allowed to make myself happy, not you.

 

 

 

Mean.

Anger has a way of eating away at your insides when you’ve been hurt. It cuts away at every positive vibe you’re feeling. Taking away every civilized thought you could possibly think of. The more it boils inside of you, the more upset you become. You start picking up your ammo, ready to fire your shots with every possible thought you could ever think of. Because I know all your secrets and I see through all your lies. I know everything about you to use everything against you.

I could cut you down to size, if I wanted to. I could spew out every ill will feeling, if I wanted to. I could hurt you with just 4 words that would spin your whole head around, if I wanted to. Because I know every deep dark secret. I know everything that nobody else knows. I could hurt you and watch your world crumble to the ground, if I wanted too. You’ve lead me no choice but to hurt you as you have done to me. Point out all your flaws and break your heart into two. Words can be just words, but even words can cut you to the core. Words can find a way to hurt you without drawing out your fists. Hurting you would show your weakness and pain, and trust me I want to hurt you. Hurting you would show you how it feels to be me.

None of that would make me feel better, it would only make everything feel worse. I once believed that to defend yourself, you had to hurt somebody. Hurt somebody that they felt it deep down to the core. All I’ve ever wanted was to show people how much they have hurt me. To show them that words aren’t always just words. Words are the ammo that they shoot out to their targets and rip them apart. When people hurt they do everything in their power to harness that hurt onto anyone they come across. Everyone is the enemy when you’re hurt. To justify the pain, you hurt everyone that you come in contact with. Innocent bystanders have no chance against you in your quest to express your pain. Its the pain your want to get rid of, the pain thats eating away at your soul.

I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to hurt. As much as it pains me to be this hurt, I can’t push this emotion on someone else. I know all your secrets. I know all your lies. I know everything that can hurt you and make you stop in your tracks. But I won’t use that against you. I won’t allow myself to stoop down at your level. Because eventually your pain will be your downfall. Eventually everything that you spew out to hurt people, will one day come back to haunt you. No one deserves this pain, not even you. But I won’t use this hurt as ammo to shoot at you. I won’t use this pain as a blueprint to destroy you. Instead I will overcome all this pain and manifest it into something else. You can’t hurt me anymore and one day you will give up the ghost of all this pain. Being mean doesn’t solve anything, it only makes you into a monster of yourself. You’re better than that.

I won’t hurt you with words. I won’t hurt you at all. Instead I’ll live inside this hurt and find a way to love. Because love is bigger than any mean ill feeling you could ever think of. I am bigger than this, just wish you could be too.

8/23/2010