Ponders, Rants, & Letters
The Eternal Flip Off
Forever judged on looks, perhaps I can match what I look like on the inside. By how I look on the outside, people think I'm pretty. Let's see how pretty they think I am with the red lips stained black, nails painted to match. Eyes rimmed with black, forcing those around to see the person in my eyes. Hair long and wild, streaked with whatever color I wish. Baggy Tripp pants to hide my legs, trench coat to hide my breasts. A collar to hide my neck, pounding music to cover my inner insanity.
I'm sick of it, I'm reclusive for a reason. I hate people. We are a disgusting animal who only cares about looks. No interest is ever shown on the inner being underneath the clothes and skin. Those who actually see the inner person are riddled with problems of their own and are constantly accused of being only interested in the looks of another person. They only pretend to view the true person. Maybe they do, maybe they don't, I'm the one who thinks the way I do. Looks don't matter, but no one cares nor do they listen to me. Why the hell should I bother? No reason to pursue happiness, I'm obviously to stupid to see it. Either that, or I can find it, but nobody wants me to believe what I find.
I love you.
Isn't it amazing how those three little words can stir up so many emotions?
And it can be so hard to say, especially if it is to someone new. To completely bare your soul to someone and be so vulnerable.
This as a phenomenon that happens no matter what age you are, whether 15 or 50, the butterflies are still there.
It doesn't matter whether is a friend that these feelings have developed for or a person whom you've been dating for awhile. How can you tell whether or not the other person feels the same way towards you? To be honest, I don't think you can.
But I think what's almost harder then saying it, is hearing it. Unless the person is a family member or a current girlfriend or boyfriend, so many thoughts are raised.
"Oh my gosh! Does (s)he mean is?"
"Whee! Someone loves me! But in what way?"
Or on the flip side,
"Oh dear, but I done feel the same. . ."
The confusion that can result from those three little words is enormous. Unless you do care for the person in the same way, it can change a friendship or worse, end it.
That brings me to the fear that could set in.
"(S)He's such a good friend, how can we move into something more without losing what we have now?"
Do you remember me? We grew up together and I've tried to be your friend. But I seemed to cause a rift that I am unable to mend.
I don't think I ever told you, but I've always looked up to you. When we were young and we went out somewhere and I was scared, I would look to you for shelter. Whenever I got picked on, I looked to you to defend me. But you rarely did.
Remember, one day when you promised to play with me and one of your friends called? You let them push me aside and you went on a chatted. But I forgave you.
You were always so popular where ever we went, people love you. I would fade out of sight as you would glow. I'm sorry for embarrassing you, for I often must have.
I never had any friends, so I clung to you, praying one day that you would notice me.
I know you love me, but why would you do that?
We both had it tough, Daddy not being there. Mama wasn't perfect but she did the best she could.
Is it something I did? I know I was a hard child to deal with. I know I hit you and would scream and rage, but I never meant to hurt you. Maybe that's why I was so protective of you and would never let anybody hurt you. . .That is, I did what I could. I've spent most of my life trying to control my temper, but it's so hard.
Is that why you avoid me? Did I demand to much of Mom's time? Did I make you feel unloved? I'm so sorry if I did.
I really am jealous of you. The pieces of your life always seem to just fall into place. There are days I don't think I'll ever make much of myself.
But when you left, you left me behind. You promise to call, but then forget because you're so busy. It still feels like someone striking a bruise before it can heal. I know you have a new life and lots of friends, but could you come and see me just to hang out? It's becoming that I look forward to and dread the days you come over. I'm happy to see you, but I know you're just here because you need so pick up misdirected mail or because you need something.
You're never there when I need you. I know I can call and talk, but you can be so busy I don't want to intrude.
I wish we were closer, but I guess that's something you don't need right now. I just want you to know,
I miss you.
The Night I Died
Inner World: Enter If You Dare
Friends with benefits, a curious invention, no?
I mean, people say its great because there is no strings attached, but how can that be really true? One is bound to fall in love with one of their fwb, and then if the other person is just in it for the fun if it, then isn't it difficult to return to friends without benefits?
Even more so, what happens when you find someone that you really care about that isn't in the fwb group? Now I'm not saying I don't like the whole idea, but it seems as if there are strings attached that you can't help. . .
Now I know some people will prolly get mad at me, saying I'm a prude or something, but then again that's something I'm used to. Now I'm not against flirting, 'cause for the most part that's harmless. But the idea of casual sex (or heavy petting) is just a strange idea to me. . .and people wonder why I don't make many friends. lol
Anyways, thats my over-thought thought of the day ^^
You enjoy guilty pleasures, you love to be in control. You like attention that is not drawn by yourself.
You like leaving this world for a while inside your own little world, the world in your head.
You enjoy doing things that you know you shouldn't do.
And your dividing line? Taking a risk, a dare, anything that can pull you down in either direction.
You like when people think that you harbor dark secrets deep in your soul. And your are afraid that sweet innocent girl that is trying to get out, might get out one day.
Something a person I know, who I can only describe as my sanity, wrote to describe me.
What Is Love
What is love?
Is it when you trust someone with your life?
Is it when they leave the room, you feel as if you're holding your breathe until they return?
Is it when you fall asleep at night in their arms, you sleep so soundly, but if they aren't there, you can't sleep at all?
Is it when you laugh at their stupid jokes, even though you've heard them a thousand times?
Is it when you come home exhausted from work, and getting just a hug is enough to reenergize you?
Is it when you can go to bed without having any sexual contact (besides hugging and kissing) and know that your partner still loves you so much it hurts?
What is love?
Is it being able to talk for hours about nothing and still find each other fascinating?
Is it seeing your loved one sick and still thinking (s)he is the most beautiful creature ever?
Is it when you can curl up together and say nothing, and still have said more then talking for hours?
Is it when you suddenly crave chocolates for some reason, and can't get any, and they show up with a box of Godiva's? Is it when you indulge their little whims, just to make them smile?
What, I ask, what is love?
Back to Confessions of a Deranged Mind