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Dec 22, 2009Comments: 438 · Posts: 33721 · Topics: 241
I've always worn my heart on my sleeve. I do believe this a blessing and also a curse. My feelings are transparent. Everything I feel is in my voice and in my eyes. I've always been this way. I was warned as a child to toughen up. Well, creeping up on 40 and I'm not tough yet. I often wonder at this aspect of myself. Is it there to ensure the wounding is deeper, the knife striking heart
before all else? Why do I lay it all out on the line I wonder. What keeps me going. Why is this optomism always present. That perhaps one day someone will stand up and take notice of how very wonderful I am. Self doubt. A prisoner of my own mind, a wrecked hulk of exposed nerve endings and bleeding synapsis. I tend to blow things up in my mind to unbelievable proportions. Placing importance on the trivial at times. I can talk the talk and walk the walk, but inside I feel as though I'm a husk. I have so much capacity to love inside of me. Perhaps I'm just lonely. Afraid of being alone in the world. I've had my feet on terra firma for a year now, and I miss so many things.
I wonder, too, why it's necessary for all of us that feel so intensely to hurt so deeply. Yin and yang I suppose. What makes one think one moment that the world is at their feet and with one sentence it's all gone horribly awry? Who am I and what do I seek? Is there one single person in the world that can go toe to toe with me and just accept me for what I am? Who I am? I'm not talking about castles and moonbeams, and quite frankly Cinderella and the rest of the Disney princesses can take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut. What I'm talking about is someone to hold me when I cry, lift me when I'm down. To take my crap, to allow me to take their crap. To just know that they're mine. No questions asked. Someone with the guts to know right down to the ground that I'm theirs as well. That I don't have to say "I love you" all the time. That I express it in so many other ways. That I'll hold you when you're weak and hold you when you're strong. That I'll pump my fist to the skies and call down the thunder because I'm so proud you're MINE. No time, no distance, no space. Someone to get raucous with, to dance with, to laugh with until I can't breath. Someone to kiss and make love with.
Signed Up:
Dec 22, 2009Comments: 438 · Posts: 33721 · Topics: 241
Someone to bounce ideas off of and know your opinions and thoughts actually matter. Someone to argue with, shout at, but know at the end of the day they're still hanging tough with and FOR you.
What do you do when someone calls to you so strongly you can't get your feet underneath you? How do you handle it. "Play it cool, don't blow it." "Be chilly, don't be a psychotic twit." I wonder why I can't just feel what I feel. It's as natural as breathing to me. And yes, I suppose it is frightening in a way to have someone with all that swirling around them because at times the intensity level is off the charts.
They say the thrill is in the chase. What if you don't want the chase? What if you just want to stand stock still and scream "HERE I AM"? I'm ready to take on all the bullshit and still be here. I'll listen and respond, hell, I'll even make tea and bring out the tissues with a blanket when you're ill. What if you're tired of games, so damned sick of it all that you just want to cut a wide swath through all of it and lay it out there. Will it be collected, or just tossed aside like rubbish? It's the unknown that's so frightening. All the mind trips of what does he/she really think. Can you make yourself too accessible, and ahhhhhha, there's another game. I'll show him/her. I won't be there. And what does that prove? That you're inconsistent? Well who in their right mind wants that? I sure as shit don't. I don't want hot/cold. One side of it is a wonderland of undiscovered territory and the other sucks the mold right off the side of a wheel of cheese.
We all want reassurances, don't we? Well sometimes you just have to suck it up and accept you're not going to get them. Not in word, not in deed. Worlds a bitch and Gaia is pissed off.
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Sep 29, 2010Comments: 2 · Posts: 1652 · Topics: 19
"A prisoner of my own mind, a wrecked hulk of exposed nerve endings and bleeding synapsis."
Wow...