Please Understand Where I Came From

It took me years to have confidence in myself, and strength to have confidence in my shortcomings. It takes me months to come around and stand by my decisions, and it takes all I have inside of me not to give up on myself. I worked so hard to get to where I am standing today, and it will take me years more to continue cultivating that strength. Because it took just one sentence from someone I love to tear my whole world down to nothing. I don’t hate him for the words he spoke. And I do not resent him for his unawareness of the effect of what he said. I cannot ask him to take those words back, but I cannot help but want to point out the error in his ways. What I do hate is that the second thought never occurred to him and the reflex to evaluate his own words did not kick in. But still, I cannot resent him for not experiencing the same things that I have in life. I cannot blame him for never working a job that demeaned his sense of self and I do not wish that he know what it is like to be reflexively talked down to. I just wish that one of my best friends understood where I am coming from.

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I Want Someone To Want Me

I just want to be appreciated.
I want to know that I am loved,
I want to feel that I am watched over,
I just want someone to care.
I want to matter to one individual,
I want to have a mate to my soul,
I just want someone interested in my thoughts.
I want someone who listens,
I want my words to fall on attentive ears,
I just want to never feel like I am speaking to an empty room.
I want someone who notices,
I want a pair of eyes to always be trained on me,
I just want someone to have my back.

I hate this feeling of abandonment from nothing I ever knew,
I hate that I crave dependence,
And I can’t stand that I fantasize over attachment.
I hate that I am my own best supporter,
I hate that I come off as independent,
And I can’t seem to get over the thought of what I am missing.
I hate that I am weak and foolish,
I hate that I desire something so common,
And somehow I can’t stop the thought from emerging.
I hate that I have succumb to the problem of my age,
I hate the assumption that I need to be attached,
And yet I can’t help but agree.

I wish that I could push back these tears,
I wish that I could carry on without fear,
That I might forever be alone.
I wish that I placed priority on dependence,
I wish that I had planned ahead for this inevitable nemesis,
That I might never create what some consider “home”.

But what I really seek and what I must truly speak,
Is that I just want someone to care and I want someone to be there,
I hate that this is a problem that makes me cry and I can’t endure the pressure any longer,
I wish that there was a simple answer that might lead me to the prince I have been longing after.

And forever the answer that I hear in the back of my mind,
The one that is soft and stumble and means to be kind,
Is that I am my own Queen and I must serve me,
And that will allow me to be free.

I Wish I Knew The Meaning To Life

I wish I knew what I was doing.

I wish that I had all of the answers,
And I wish I was left with no questions.
I wish that I had never encountered doubt,
And I wish that I had the confidence to say damn it all.
I wish that I could boast about all I do,
And I wish there was a single thing I didn’t think I could do.

But I know my limits.

I know I don’t want to be a slave to the system,
And I know I don’t want to live my life at work.
I don’t want to look up one day and wonder where all the time has gone,
And I don’t want to waste my life away on things that do not matter to me.
I never want to regret time spent away from people I love,
And I never want to be the cause of my own depression.

I don’t know what I want.

I want to live life freely and without a care,
But I don’t know what in life might get me there.
I want to be the master of my own plan,
But I don’t know what plan to make in the first place.
I want to see a face of confidence when I look in the mirror,
But I don’t know who I am looking at most days.

I am lost.

I wake up in a fog of confusion,
And I go to sleep in a fit of exhausted frustration.
I don’t know what my day holds for me,
And I can’t seem to find the energy to control anything that happens to me.
I live life moment by moment,
And I can’t see to look any further than where my feet have landed.

But I can be found.

I can continue on and find my way,
And I can have confidence that today might be the day,
When I look up and see all that I can be,
And recognize that all along I have always been me,
I can search high and low,
And I can live off of the highs and wallow in the lows,
But in the end I will be alright with whichever direction it goes,
Because this is a search,
And it is a life-long quest,
And there are no answers as to how to live life best,
So I must trust in myself,
And trust in my feet,
And carry on at my own pace and my own beat,
With the faith that one day I can be “complete”.

But I will never be whole.

And I will never stop questioning. Because there is no secret to this life.
And there is no reason to for my strife.
There is nothing I can do but continue on.
And accept life and the trials that it may bring along.
I must persist,
And I must accept,
That this life is something that only I can allow myself to regret.

I Hate This Piece

These are the mornings that annoy me,
And these are the faults that I cannot help but see,
This is what hinders me,
And this is what makes me want to scream.
I see the mistakes I have made and the choices that I failed,
I over analyze my actions and replay them in my head,
And I only see disappointment in my reflection in the mirror.
I look further for an understanding and some forgiveness,
But all I find is a further desire to give up.
Because I am not perfect,
And I cannot be,
And this is something that frustrates me.
I want to move through life without a mistake,
And I want to know a life without regret,
I wish that I had the ability and drive to execute,
A life that I am proud to be a part of.
But every day I wake I am disappointed in myself,
And for every mistake I make I chastise myself.
It is reflexive and ingrained,
And it is something I cannot seem to untrain.
I have taught self hate for so many years,
That what I love about myself is no longer clear.
I cannot seem to move past the self criticism,
And I cannot seem to see past my human faults.
There is something inside of me that won’t let go,
Of the judgement that I place on my every action,
And the analysis I conduct with every thought,
Because I almost know myself too well —
I know what my motivation is,
And I know why I am making mistakes,
I know that I am only human,
But I know that I have inhumane standards.
Yet there is something inside of my that will not accept this,
It is that something that makes me hate,
And it is that something makes me restless,
And something that makes writing this impossible,
Something that will not allow me to speak the truth,
And something that will not let me admit that I am avoiding the truth,
Because it might be too much for me to bear,
And I doubt that I am strong enough to overcome,
And if I speak the truth then something in the end must be done.

The “Best Years of My Life” Were a Lie

Someone lied to me. I was led to believe that college would prepare me for life. I was told that that piece of paper that I worked so hard to obtain would open doors for me and allow me to get my foot in. It was conveyed to me that college would teach me life skills and that once I made it through the shit show of four years I would know how to live like an adult. And someone allowed me to believe that that someone else could hand me all of the answers. I trusted in an institution and I had faith in an organized approach with clearly outlined steps. I had to take certain classes to advance onto other ones, I was allowed to develop my own schedule and I squeezed in time at work whenever I could. I participated in an internship that humbled my ego and taught me the meaning of hard and unrewarding work. And I studied abroad to take in other cultures and learn a different way to approach life. I valued every learning experience I had during those four years and clung to them as i was told these experiences would get me through the rest of my life. But someone had lied to me — and although those years built a foundation of knowledge and experience, they were nothing in comparison to what experiencing life had to teach me.

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Creating A Life Worth Living

These are the times that I live for. These are the moments that make life worth living. This is my time to shine. And this is my opportunity to accept life and make it my own. This must be what every twenty something feels like, and this must be the inspiration that moves a nation. This must be what gets people by. And this must be what everyone is waiting for. But the question remains, is that what I was looking for?

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I Am No Longer Me

How do I know that I am happier than I was before?
And who can tell me that I have changed?
What is the sign I have been waiting for?
And how can I know that it was there all along?
Who said that this life is something that is in my control?
And what told me that it was time to move on?
How can I put this sensation into words?
And who will even listen if I do?
There is one answer that rings true,
And one thing that I have to do —
Not be you.
I need to not be complacent,
And I need to not follow in your footsteps,
I should not trust you,
And I should not deny me,
I cannot put this one out of sight,
And I cannot ignore my own mind.
This was building and forming for years in the making,
Leaving me now to do the remainder of the taking.
I poured my heart into me,
And I dedicated my soul to the cause.
I struggled and strived,
And allowed pieces of me to die inside.
I hated myself,
And I sought escape from the pressure,
But what I found in that escape was something lesser,
Something smaller than what I had in mind,
And there was still something clawing at my insides.
I heard a voice in the back of my mind,
And for once I was so inclined to listen,
To the voices I knew so well —
The ones that formed my own prison.
They shit on my efforts and spit on my trials,
I heard doubt and abuse,
And it took years to cut those voices loose.
But once they cleared and I stopped the ringing in my ears,
I dared myself to listen.
I heard the fear of doubt,
And I recognized the things I wanted to shout,
I wanted to let it all go,
And I wanted to release into the flow of life,
To stop caring and finally give in,
And allow myself to succumb to the numbness within.
But there was a voice that grew louder in the back of my mind,
And a voice that I recognized as one of a kind,
It was the voice of my soul and the voice that cleared doubt,
It had the sound of confidence,
And spoke the language of defiance.
It started as a whisper and a question,
And grew in volume as I allowed the wrong thoughts in.
It yelled at me for the state of my health,
And asked me how I defined the status of wealth.
It questioned my detrimental reactions,
And wondered why I failed to ever gain traction.
It brought to light what I was denying myself,
And the shame that grew within only seemed to help.
I wanted to change and I wanted to listen,
It was just a matter of finally releasing myself from my own opinions.
But once I tasted that sky of potential,
And once I took a deep breath of acceptance,
I could not help but become the person I was destined to be —
I could not help but be passionate,
And I could not control my enthusiasm,
I could not stop talking about my dreams,
And I could not have more faith in the fact that nothing is as it seems.
Because I had not changed in looks,
And you could not notice a difference in the actions I took,
But I could not deny feeling it.
I could not help but start a new,
Because I knew the old me just would not do,
It would not serve the person I was meant to be,
And it could not save me from the things life had thrown at me.
I had to adapt and I had to change,
It was time to move on,
And if I didn’t I wouldn’t have survived for long,
Because I would have lost the sense of what it is to be me,
I would have failed to see all the things that I have the potential to be,
If only I was not me,
And I became everything I ever dreamed to be.

A Day To Be Free

Today is a day to be free,
Or that’s at least what it’s supposed to be.
We are free to speak our minds,
And free to act as we please,
Or at least that’s what we are told by the police.
You are free to get drunk in public,
And free to run a muck,
Just as long as you don’t bring up race.
Because today is a day to celebrate a place,
A country that promised dreams and provided hope,
And a government that spit on the denial to vote.
It is a time of tradition,
And a time to kick shit in,
Because America,
Fuck Yeah,
And World Fuck You.
Today is a day to be free,
But not in the way that was originally promised to be.
We raise our flags,
And we tear down the “fags”,
We speak our minds,
And deny any opposing opinions we might find.
We boast about our home,
Yet never admit that it is all on loan.
We claim our pride,
But that’s not what is heard inside the walls of the homes,
Of the people who have attempted to claim this place as their own.
We are America,
And we are free,
To be judgmental,
And unaccepting,
And filled with hate.
So on this date that is meant to be celebrated,
Remember the people who are at the root of this development,
And the melting pot that we are supposed to be,
And what it truly means to be “free”.

The Only Opinion That Matters

Today was the day he made her see that she had changed — for the better or worse was still to be determined, but she had indeed changed. There was a stark difference between the way she spent her time these days. She was out of the house constantly, would return home exhausted and smoke herself to sleep in order to wake up and do it all over again. She was raising her voice more often and visibly frustrated with whatever she experienced while she was away from home. She was packing suitcases and unpacking them again just to allow them to sit on her floor for a week and be packed up again. She was always tired yet always moving and she never seemed to stop and play fetch anymore. She was finally moving again and she had finally admitted defeat to the strain of boredom. Continue reading

Cheers

I am proud of you,
But not for the things you do.
And I applaud you,
But not because I am supposed to.
I learned a long time ago that you would always do what you were meant to do,
But not because someone told you to.

You seem to be made of grit and rationale,
And always reach conclusions that are sound.
You drip with dedication and determination,
And reach for impossible heights that would scare a mere mortal.
You accept what life has handed to you,
And turn it into something that is true to you.

I am so incredibly proud of you,
But not because you got a piece of paper signed by a dean,
And not because you have an image that is pristine,
But because you made it look natural —
Living a life that was bound to capture you.
I am proud of your strength,
And I am in awe of the length you went to to find what works for you.
I celebrate your place in life,
And I sympathize with all of your strife,
Because I know this journey was not easy,
And I know what you suffered,
I know that you struggled,
But I know that you inspire me,
And I know you shine blindly,
Never noticing the things you accomplish,
And never recognizing the strength you posses.

So here’s to you!
And here’s to everything you have the capacity to do!
Because you are one to be celebrated!
And one to be admired!
You are the one by whom we are all inspired!