This post was written after a while of writer’s block so it may be a little hard to follow and scattered.
Just a warning.
I also have a new project I hope to be trying out here soon.
I will be doing a 30-day challenge here I take a picture every day and write at least one paragraph about that picture.
We’ll see if I can actually follow through with it, because I’m usually bad at keeping up with these things.
There’s a few more challenges I want to be doing and I’ll probably be sharing them on here, so I hope you’re looking forward to that as much as I am!
I do people things.
I’m not quite sure what that entails just yet.
I hate doing human-people things though; like eating and sleeping.
I don’t allow myself to laugh or cry as often as I should. Mostly I get angry at the fact that I am sad.
It probably makes more sense to me than it does to you.
I don’t write, I blurt. I don’t create, I regurgitate. Art is conscious or subconscious imitation.
I’m no Shakespeare.
Whether or not I like to admit it, I’m only human. Human and half a person.
Please don’t ask me to explain how one can be “half a person” because I have no clue.
/At least I’m able to admit when I don’t know what I’m talking about./
I’m getting there though
It may feel like I’m dying, but I know I am going to be reborn as something so much better.
At least, I hope I am.
That’s probably a matter of opinion.
I should probably only be worried about my own, but I’m sure I’m going to hear everyone else’s regardless.
I suppose it’s a good thing; like a scientist gathering data. I guess our view of ourselves can get a bit distorted at times too.
Sometimes we’re hard to follow.
No sense makes sense…to certain people.
All we want is for someone to tell us that we make sense. Or find something that makes sense, or create something that makes sense; to us and to others.
However, you can make sense to everyone. To try to do so is to commit intellectual suicide, so to speak.
The only person you should try to make sense to is yourself. All the love you could ever want will come to you, and it will be the right love.
Know yourself and understand others.
After all, why would you want to surround yourself with people who don’t understand you; and vice versa?
I know it’s no fun getting quizzical, concerned looks every time you begin to rant and ramble.
It’s like being the only drunk person in a room full of sober people. You feel and probably look stupid, like you’re the only one laughing at a joke.
It’s an incredibly lonely position to be in.
At that point, there’s only two things you can do: compromise yourself and “sober up”, or be alone until you find someone who drinks the same brand of whiskey as you.
I choose the latter.
I would rather be alone (not necessarily lonely) than give up this mind I’m beginning to grow fond of.
I spent so long working on this personality and making sense of myself, why the hell would I give it up now? Especially for someone who didn’t even try to understand what makes sense to me.
I no longer require saving. I know what I am doing, and if I don’t, I will figure it out. With or without you.
Now that I know what makes sense to me, I couldn’t imagine anything else.
It’s an inspiring, empowering feeling.
I feel confident, capable, and unstoppable, or, I will be.
Everyone seems to think that it’s one giant leap to “the top”, or a climb. It’s really, for me, a gradual incline, but not graceful at all. There’s a lot of booby traps and things to trip on.
There’s also a lot of distractions. “Promising” relationships/friendships, things that look fun but will ultimately leave you destroyed.
Things that will tear you apart and leave you to pick up the pieces of what you were.
They’re scattered everywhere, and it’s hard to put yourself back together when you’re still not sure what you were to begin with.
It’s like doing a puzzle without the box.
Time-consuming and discouraging.
When you have a solid understanding of yourself, no one can ever make you feel confused and scared.
I was so tired of feeling that way.
I felt so weak and malleable. Like a ball of Play-Dough, and I let people shape me into whatever they wanted me to be.
Now I will only be who I feel like being, regardless of if I like who that is or not.
If it makes sense to me and feels right, that’s what I will be doing.
I realize that you don’t have to like who you are, you just have to know who you are, and be confident in being that person.