Anti-Social Media

My reality is one where I am alone, quiet, and scared.
But the reality you see can be perceived much differently.
My view is one of a woman confused, torn down, and self-abused.
You might see that I am just tired and overused.
My perception is one of weakness, meekness, and an unsalvageable mess.
You can see that I am taking my best guess.
I see that I am boring, mute, and confused by what I am doing.
You might see that there are dreams I am pursuing.
My view is one of no choice, no voice, no palpable pulse.
You can see that I am alive, trying, and have a will to survive.
There is a shadow cast over my sight that I allow to win this internal fight.
There is a shadow of experience that I am struggling to perceive.
There is a darkness that I do not want you to see.
But this truth is laid out plainly.
I cannot hide this side of me.
You cannot help but see it differently.
This perception of reality is confusing.
The choice is mine for the choosing.
You can see that there is more I am doing.
I can see that this will never be enough.
You might see that the life I’ve been handed is rough.
I see that I have experienced true love and true loss.
I have lived the truths I am composed of.
You have witnessed what it might look like to rise above.
I doubt that this is progress I know of.
You see what I have overcome.
I see that I have only become more numb.
You view a woman who grew up quickly.
I see a girl in a state of disbelief.
You might see what I’ve become.
I can only see what I’ve left behind.
This is the conflict of our time.
You can only see what I post publicly.
I only speak about times worth celebrating.
You only perceive what I want you to see.
I craft my image carefully.
You are convinced to believe in me.
While I work to warp my reality.
You might follow me on social media.
But I do not see your restricted reality.
I take it all in.
You don’t see that I am up and down and filled with anxiety.
But this is the only reality I live in.
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Pick A Direction

Choose your battles, you picky bitch.
Choose what you want to fight against.
This life can’t hold everything that was once foretold, in fairytales from years of old.
Choose what you want to do with this life.
Choose your own version of strife.
You are not the person that you once assumed.
Choose what you want to do.
It is as simple as that.
Choose what you lack and learn when to fight back.
Choose to be more or choose to sink to your knees, exposing your hands that bleed with a desperate plea.
Choose who YOU want to be.
Choose. Or move on.
Stop this complaining repertoire.
Cease your fire! You no longer have a while to ponder. It is time for action. There is no more time to squander.
Choose this fight.
Or choose to lie down your weapons and be open.
Choose what you search for hopelessly.
There are no answers for the questions you pose. There are many unspoken reasons for the path you chose.
So choose once again.
Learn that there is more on which you can depend.
Choose to stop choking on your own words.
Choose a battle that is less absurd.
Choose something to believe in. It is on you who you depend.
Choose what you are willing to see and how this could be everything you once needed.
Choose which fight destroys you.
Admit what you are willing to lose.
Everything will not be simple and nothing will make sense the more you fight this.
Choose to embrace it.
There is much more you could lose, yet there is so much more you could use to get through.
Be more than this.
Rise above this debate.
Find ways in which you are able to relate.
Choose the words you want to convey.
Don’t take back what you said when you committed to a life that is your own form of bliss.
Choose to work harder for this.
Choose what you are willing to miss as you choose to let go of this struggle against your own choice.
Choose to find your voice.
Choose to move on.
Or choose to cling on to the life that you once created.
Choose which reality you want to debate.
Is it the battle inside that satisfies your mind? Or is it the hope that you are working towards something in time?
Choose which answer you want to find.
This battle will rage forever.
Choose how you want to react.
Choose what patience you lack and what fallacies you want to attack.
Choose what you will never be able to take back.
Choose to make now the time to react.
Choose or lose this battle fought within you.
That is all you can be expected to do.

You Progress While I Transgress

What made us part ways?
Was it the words I never spoke?
Or was it the actions that I failed to take?
And what makes me accept the blame?
When you are so far away and have no valid claim against me?
What makes me feel this guilt?
When the phone can go both ways and you never call me either?
What can I do to save this friendship?
What is it that I possibly missed?
How can you be so justified in your disgruntled behavior?
When it take two people to form a friendship?
And you seem to have taken the same passive attempt?
What makes me feel this nagging pain?
Over a relationship that I could have saved?
When you could have tried and reached out too?

I think I know the answers to the questions I speak.
And I think I can understand that resistance you keep,
Against me and the person I have become.
I think I know why you need distance,
And I understand that we were bound to grow apart,
When our friendship began so young.
Since we have not yet become the people we will be,
I understand that you needed space to discover who you are,
And I needed the same to get this far.
I also know that we could have kept this alive,
If one of us had actually tried.
But we let our friendship fall and we took for granted our chances to call,
Leaving us in the state we currently reside,
Where neither one of us are by the other’s side.

It kills me to say that I lost a friend,
And one who once understood me better than anyone else.
It makes me cringe when I think about my actions,
And the way I carelessly lost track of our friendship.
It forces me to tears to consider losing you,
And I am not sure what to do anymore.
Since you meant so much to me it is hard to express,
And yet I know that there is something between us creating distance.
You were the friend I had in my greatest time of need,
And you were the person who I could count on to get me through.
You were the strength I once possessed,
Showing me that I could work for more than what I was given.
You were once the reason I remained alive,
But the pressure of that friendship may have become too much.

I realize that we lost track of each other years ago,
And we stopped connecting in obvious ways,
I was depressed while you remained motivated,
And I got high while you found a reason to try.
While I embraced my chaos,
You set achievable goals,
And while I lost control you were working even more.
I once knew what it was like to be you,
Driven and focused in my mission to accomplish,
Everything that I set my mind to and everything I was told to do.
I once followed the rules of others,
And I once found it to be worthwhile.
But while you continued on with the life we were once promised,
I moved on to living a life I least expected.

I lost everything once,
And you were there to remind me I didn’t,
Because you were by my side no matter what I went through.
I don’t know when this changed,
But my best guess would be the day,
When I showed you my true struggles,
And you looked down on me in sympathy and a hint of disgust,
Never being able to understand where I was coming from.
So what makes me accept all of the blame?
When you ended this with a look of confusion,
About the person that I had become and the things I have done?
What makes me accept all of the guilt?
When you were also supposed to be there for me,
And you were supposed to understand that sometimes I need,
Support from one of my best friends,
And acceptance from someone I thought I would call sister until the end.
But I should have recognized that you stopped understanding me,
The moment my life changed drastically.

Please Make This Work

I am tired of this.
And once again I repeat myself.
I am tired of you.
For reasons that you can’t seem to tell.
I am tired of everything.
Since you never seem to lend support.
I am tired of helping you.
And everything that you fail to do…

I have no support.
When you were supposed to be my friend.
And I did everything I can.
I helped you get through.
And I watched everything you went through.
I was there lending support.
And you were there taking whatever was given…

I did not think it would result like this.
I never considered that you could sink this low.
Since I used to look up to you.
I thought you might have the answers.
I was sure that you could help me.
But instead I ended up living life for you…

I am exhausted.
And you do not help provide relief.
Since I escaped from my problems to yours.
And I am tired of trying.
You insist on your lies.
And I can no longer trust you.
But I want to trust that you are there for me…

I want to know that I am not alone.
I need this dependence to end.
But you can’t seem to understand where I come from.
Since you don’t see what I see.
And you refuse to believe in yourself.
It has becoming tiring to say the least.
And I think I no longer value your influence…

I am tired of what I have to say.
I need to move on.
Since I no longer want to blame you for my anger.
I no longer want to consider you a nuisance.
I want to value you.
And I want you to stop looking to me for support.
I want you to move on too…

And I want to feel no guilt about making the first move.
I want you to want this.
You need to begin again.
Since you no longer live like an adult.
And I’m not sure you ever did.
You speak words of experience.
But I cannot trust anything you say these days…

So I choose to see value in you.
And I choose to stand by your side.
But it is growing wearisome for me.
And you need to finally listen.
To the fact that I am approaching the end.
You will soon be cut off…

I don’t want this to end on bitterness.
But I need you to recognize what I am feeling.
I need you to be the friend I always was.
Or I need to realize that we never were friends to begin with.
But I don’t want that.
I want to support you.
But I need to support me too.

I Want This To Be My Existence

There was a stillness in the air that I savored that morning,
A sense of peace that I inhaled as I stepped out onto my porch,
And a trust in the present that surprised me.
There was nothing on my mind besides the million thoughts that I constantly suppress,
And a breath where I realized I have nothing to worry about in this moment,
Where I caught the sun rise and it stopped me in my tracks,
All I could do was stare at the glory that something created long before me.
There was an awe that overwhelmed me and an involuntary reflex to stop,
And recognize that which I have no control over and the beauty that is born from that,
It was only just a moment but it felt like I could stand there for an eternity,
Taking in the sun waking up the world and all the possibilities it holds.
It is that stillness that I miss and I crave and wish that I could witness every day,
Because it is that moment where I have no other thoughts,
And I am subject to stop and listen to what the world is saying,
Even if there are no words being spoken,
I listen even harder as if there are secrets I am not hearing,
And believe that if I can just stay still for one moment longer I might begin to hear them,
Thinking that if I can listen then maybe I can learn,
From the whisper in the trees and the rustle in the grass,
That which will help me make all this struggle pass.
So I stopped instinctively and I inhaled deeply,
Taking in a moment that usually escapes me,
With the buzzing of my phone and the pressure to respond,
Allowing others to constantly interrupt my thoughts,
And thoughts to remain incomplete,
As I light another smoke and submit to this defeat of distraction,
And mental frustration and a sense of never growing,
Since I don’t take enough moments like these,
And I will diagnose my own disease that does not allow me to be free,
Which makes me unable to stop and think,
Before getting distracted by something I don’t need or want,
And allow myself to derail this very thought,
That I could care so much more if all I had to watch were sunrises.

There Is No Simple Answer

Why do I do these things?
Why do I feel the compulsive need to support my family and how did I get placed in the role of doing so for so many years?
How did I end up with children who are two to thirty years older than me?
And what did they see in me that labeled me as such a sucker?
How do I abruptly end what I have been doing for years?
And how do I finally claim the independence that I have been furiously seeking since the age of ten?
What tied me down to the family that I did not choose and the life that seems to haunt me still?
And why am I alright with it in the end?
Why do I defend the very thing that brings me the most frustration in life?
How did caregiver become the role that I play on a daily basis, when I simultaneously struggle to take care of myself properly?
What did I say to these people that convinced them that I would always be there for them?
And what did I do that proved that I have my shit together enough to provide for two?
How am I the only one who never fails to have an answer?
And what answers have others ever provided me with?
How have I become the source of answers while I am filled with so many questions?
And why do I seem to be the only one destined to struggle for the cause of others?
Why do these people seem to rely so heavily on my influence?
And what have I said that proved to them that I had it all together?
How do I find an out from this situation I have placed myself in?
And is an out what I really want in the end?
Would a life without family that is well cared for be worth living still?
And would I still receive the same sense of satisfaction if I no longer offered everything I have to help serve those I love?
What makes me inclined to be taken advantage of?
And what makes them inclined to take me for granted?
Did they ever even need my support?
Or is this something I have forced on them?
Can I only blame myself in the end? When did I have the opportunity to say no?
And when did I decide that is was better to just always say yes?
What sacrifices have I made over the years?
And how much more sacrifice am I willing to go through in order to continue serving others?
And in the end am I actually doing everyone involved a disservice?

My Life Resume

I was eight when I had my first experience with fear of extreme anger,
And I was practically silent when I was nine because of it,
I remember forcing myself to get over my social anxiety when I was ten,
And by the time I was eleven I moved school districts and out of the ghetto,
It took me until twelve to have friends once again,
But then I was thirteen when I had my first surprise party,
At fourteen I was first exposed to casual wealth,
And it was when I was fifteen that I realized I was a nerd,
At sixteen I traveled to my first international country,
And at seventeen I lost my father,
By the time I turned eighteen I lost all sense of the identity I once held,
I chose to finally lose my virginity at nineteen with a boy who I trusted,
And I chose to move to another country when I was just twenty,
I lived the life of a drunken vagrant when I was twenty-one,
And I landed my first salaried position at the age of twenty-two,
I was hospitalized four different times at the age of twenty-three,
And stopped drinking by the time I was twenty-four,
I found a release in writing when I was twenty-five,
And by twenty-six I was back at square one,
Now at twenty-seven I am discovering who I am supposed to be and what I can truly achieve.
The milestones mean nothing in the end,
And age is inconsequential.
Every defining moment I had can be summarized and excused in one line,
And while my resume holds nothing but facts,
My mind holds nothing but endless dreams,
But there is no place for me to combine the two and show myself what I have achieved.
Facebook isn’t an accurate portrayal of what I do with my social life,
And LinkedIn doesn’t even begin to describe the experiences I’ve had to pay the bills,
Instagram provides only the highlights of life,
And Twitter only offers a snapshot of my random thoughts.
The only thing I can trust any more is my writing,
And even that I have created a bias within,
Choosing to only share the thoughts I think my be worthy of my pen.
Where is the honest reflection I am searching for?
And where is the scrapbook that outlines all the experiences I’ve had in life?
Who can recount all of my life experiences in detail for me?
And who would really care about what I did ten years ago?
I do.

What I Would Say If I Could

You sit and bitch about what life has handed you,
But you do nothing about it.
You disclaim that you are suicidal,
But you see no reason to live life at the moment.
You say that you want more out of this life,
But you do nothing to go get it.
You whine, complain and put those around you down in a pursuit to justify where you stand.
You seek sympathy when I have none left to give.
Because you made choices that got you to where you are today.
And you had plenty of time to fix what you saw as broken.
You had support from me and an example of what change can truly be,
Yet you still refused to work for it,
And you never gave me credit for the work I did.
You see that my life has changed and you cannot deny that I have changed,
Yet you are still in the same place that I left you three years ago,
Suffering and complaining and unintentionally insulting all the hard work I put into life.
You make off handed comments that put me down and make me feel guilty for initiating change.
You demean my work experience and status that I worked so many years to obtain.
You claim woe-is-me when life doesn’t work out the way you had hoped,
But never admit that it might be you who is the cause of your woes.
You have been handed so much in life,
Yet you still claim to be robbed of so much more,
While here I am working to clean up after myself,
And am taken for granted when I clean up after you as well.
I have handed you everything for the past few years and you have handed nothing back,
I found a place to live,
I worked jobs I hated to pay our bills,
And I sacrificed a life I could have built to build one that supported you.
You never asked me to,
But with a true friend you should never have to.
I have been that true friend,
And you have been the only friend who takes me for granted.
So it’s time for you to finally figure it out.
I will listen and I will provide support,
But the time has come for you to finally figure your shit out.
I cannot do it for you,
And I won’t even attempt to,
Because I can no longer take care of you,
And you should no longer want me to.
You should want to pick yourself up and carry on,
And you should crave this inevitable change.
You are 29 and it is time,
To finally take charge of the life you call your own.
You should finally own up to what you want,
And you should finally put your head down and work for what that is,
You should accept no excuse for delay,
And you should be your own biggest motivator.
I cannot play that role for you,
And I cannot stress myself out with your lack of progress for much longer.
It is time for you to take charge.
I will listen and I will provide sympathy,
Because at the root of that is empathy,
And I have walked where you are walking,
And I have struggled through what you are facing,
And I am the one person who can truly feel the pain you feel.
But you have never listened to me when I speak,
And you have never taken my words as wisdom,
And you do not want to learn from my experiences,
Because all you seek is sympathy,
And empathy is nothing you have ever attempted,
And I am tired of being taken for granted,
And I am exhausted by putting you first,
And it is time for me to move on whether you like it or not,
And it is time for you to do the same.
Because I am done with this shit,
And I am done with your complaining,
And I am done attempting to relate to someone who only seeks sympathy and never takes action,
Because when I was that same person,
You were not there to help me.
You did not spend the time to listen to my struggle,
And although this is not about keeping score,
The score board is clear that I have been doing this for years,
And it is time for you to put some points on the board if you want me to continue to stick around,
Because I do not take friends who take me for granted lightly,
And I no longer stand for that kind of emotional abuse from anyone but my mother,
And although you will always be my brother,
You have proved that you will not always be my friend.
But that’s not what matters in the end.
What matters is what you prove to yourself,
And what frustrates me is that there is nothing you can be proud of,
Because you were never challenged,
And you never tried,
And I don’t know what keeps you motivated inside.
So, I love you and I care for you,
But this is where the sympathy ends.
This is where it’s all on you,
And this is when you must find something to do.
It could be cleaning or cooking,
Volunteering or working,
Fanciful or practical,
Demeaning or up lifting.
You just have to do something.
You have to move on.
It is time for change,
Or at least it is for me,
Because I cannot take this pressure any longer,
And you should no longer want to bestow it on me.
I was never you mother and I was never your lover,
And I do not know what I am getting out of this friendship any longer,
Besides a comfort in a lack of change,
And an excuse for being deranged.
So this is when it ends,
And this is where you should begin,
Because this is when I make my exit,
And I do it without regret,
Because you had years to ask my for advice,
And I had years of being dragged down by your strife,
But I won’t take it any longer,
And you can fall or you can follow,
It makes no difference to me,
Because now I am finally allowing myself to be free.

Celebration Rings Hollow

There was something missing in my celebration —
Something that conveyed a sense of hollowness in a moment of joy,
And something that did not allow me to feel a complete sense of accomplishment.
There was something nagging at my heart,
And it distracted me from the moment of pride that was supposed to overwhelm me.
I could not give it a name,
But I felt its presence like a shadow I could not shake,
Chilling my heart which was supposed to be filled with pride,
And subduing my excitement when it was supposed to be overflowing.
It dragged me every so slightly down,
Like a weight on a balloon seeking freedom in the skies,
And it tugged me back to a state of indifference from an attempt to feel elated.
I did not resent it though,
Because for as long as I have known its presence,
I have accepted it for what it is —
I have accepted that I cannot feel complete joy,
And I recognize that there is a hollow feature to my celebrations.
I choose to share my accomplishments with little to no one,
And I often opt for celebration in solitude,
Because there is someone missing from it all.
There is one set of eyes I want to see a reflection of pride in,
And one person I will never see again.
There is one mind that I am missing the influence of,
And one example that I wish I could follow.
There is one person I want to impress,
And I never will be able to share anything with them again.
So I am left feeling hollow,
And I am left to celebrate in solitude,
And continue to push away the feeling that something is missing,
Because life robbed me of my father too young,
And I will always ache to share my life with the man I miss the most.