So here I am. 20 years old, with a mind as foggy as my former 16 year old self. It's weird to picture myself inside the open hallways of my high school. Sticking out like a sore thumb, yet all too average to be considered anything more that another human being. It doesn't matter. I graduated almost 2 whole years ago- yet it feels like an entire lifetime. My skin hasn't gotten more comfortable, but rather I've gotten more acquainted with my discomfort. Much like my Harley Davidson boots I bought, knowing they were much too small for my feet and yet I still wear them at least 3 times a week. Because I love discomfort, I love finding reasons to cry, self-sabotage is my specialty. I'm at that perfect spot in between restless and lazy. With action and imagination comes the great possibility that I will in fact fail. Faith is a troubling reality to a lazy person, it shifts all the weight on to the fact that it is you and you alone holding you back. Got a bunch of self hatred? Well that's not from God, thats ALL you! All my negativity is dead weight I cling to like an old baby blanket.
As a kid, and to this day, I've always needed some sort of blanket to cover me as I sleep. Although I didn't believe in monsters, there was something comforting about being covered by a thing even as thin as a sheet. Christianity challenges this. It rips the blanket from your bed and gives you faith, this invisible shield to protect you from the real monsters of this world, the only catch is you've got to believe in it enable for it to work. Monsters such as pride, vanity, greed, the list goes on.
I get so very discontent with my current life circumstance. I'm single, paying off a car, using my parents insurance plan, while working crazy hours at jobs I don't intend to stay with. I feel as if I can see my youth drip from the espresso machine as I make yet another iced vanilla latte with almond milk.
I haven't cried in at least 2 weeks, and although that sounds like a victory, it feels like anything but. Like a passive-aggressive relationship that never talks through hurt feelings or the pain that's lodged deep inside their throats. Sobs that are to stubborn to be let out. These are the failed marriages, the cheaters, the middle-of-the-night leavers. So no, not crying over these last two weeks is not a victory. I realize I'm walking on a tightrope wearing clown shoes, but I don't have time to run to the store to buy something more practical like ballet slippers. Evil seems to press into my skin, and i swear I'm a toad cause my skin is easy to absorb my surrounding circumstances. Like the smoke i breathe in from my cigarettes are not only turning my lungs black, but my heart and soul too.
Everyone else seems to be from different planets, and I no longer feel the desire to gaze up at the heavens. The only sky I can manage to make eye contact with, is a blank blue one, because even the clouds are trying to tell me something. The constant noise is something one can drown in. Be pulled beneath the surface and never heard from again, so spotify is a constant white noise. Going back to my childhood,I used to only be able to sleep when there was complete utter silence. That was, until the age of 10, when pornography became a unrelenting monster that not even my thickest of comforters could counter. It gobbled up my mind and made me fear God glancing in at the current metal destruction. Curiosity killed the cat 10 times over just to be sure it was dead.
Poetry has lost it's flavor. Now I don't believe much in violence, but I'm at constant war with my own smile. It has tried to slip off my face multiple times, slamming the door promising to never return. Meanwhile I ponder whether it's fair to keep something against its will. The trade off of someone's happiness for your own. These were issues I never thought I'd grow into. Having constant fights with a mind that threw in the towel years ago, but that's life- isn't it?
As a kid, and to this day, I've always needed some sort of blanket to cover me as I sleep. Although I didn't believe in monsters, there was something comforting about being covered by a thing even as thin as a sheet. Christianity challenges this. It rips the blanket from your bed and gives you faith, this invisible shield to protect you from the real monsters of this world, the only catch is you've got to believe in it enable for it to work. Monsters such as pride, vanity, greed, the list goes on.
I get so very discontent with my current life circumstance. I'm single, paying off a car, using my parents insurance plan, while working crazy hours at jobs I don't intend to stay with. I feel as if I can see my youth drip from the espresso machine as I make yet another iced vanilla latte with almond milk.
I haven't cried in at least 2 weeks, and although that sounds like a victory, it feels like anything but. Like a passive-aggressive relationship that never talks through hurt feelings or the pain that's lodged deep inside their throats. Sobs that are to stubborn to be let out. These are the failed marriages, the cheaters, the middle-of-the-night leavers. So no, not crying over these last two weeks is not a victory. I realize I'm walking on a tightrope wearing clown shoes, but I don't have time to run to the store to buy something more practical like ballet slippers. Evil seems to press into my skin, and i swear I'm a toad cause my skin is easy to absorb my surrounding circumstances. Like the smoke i breathe in from my cigarettes are not only turning my lungs black, but my heart and soul too.
Everyone else seems to be from different planets, and I no longer feel the desire to gaze up at the heavens. The only sky I can manage to make eye contact with, is a blank blue one, because even the clouds are trying to tell me something. The constant noise is something one can drown in. Be pulled beneath the surface and never heard from again, so spotify is a constant white noise. Going back to my childhood,I used to only be able to sleep when there was complete utter silence. That was, until the age of 10, when pornography became a unrelenting monster that not even my thickest of comforters could counter. It gobbled up my mind and made me fear God glancing in at the current metal destruction. Curiosity killed the cat 10 times over just to be sure it was dead.
Poetry has lost it's flavor. Now I don't believe much in violence, but I'm at constant war with my own smile. It has tried to slip off my face multiple times, slamming the door promising to never return. Meanwhile I ponder whether it's fair to keep something against its will. The trade off of someone's happiness for your own. These were issues I never thought I'd grow into. Having constant fights with a mind that threw in the towel years ago, but that's life- isn't it?
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