I’m not me.
I wish I wasn’t anyway. It’s hard to explain really. I don’t feel like I am who I am. I feel like I’m someone else most days and I don’t really like feeling like me.
Me feels bad. Me feels like a waste of time and effort. Why would I want to be me, ever, when I can be these happier smarter, funnier, prettier versions of me that everyone can cope with knowing. I can’t even cope with me. Why should anyone else.
Me is awful. She hasn’t washed her hair in 12 years or even brushed it, she’s covered in dirt and soot, her eyes are red and blood shot and her clothes are dirty and ripped. She’s a coward and a loser and she can’t do anything by herself. She sits in the corner and wishes on stars and spends day and night wishing and dreaming up stupid things that will never happen. Willing the fairies to life or the frogs into princes.
It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I tell her that it’s just not going to happen. She never gives up. Then when I get tired of doing everything for her she shakes her head and thows a tantrum. Throws upsetting daydreams into my head and ruins every day that’s been just fine. I’ve had enough of being this way.
I really have.
There’s nothing I can do though is there. I can’t fix anything. I can tell myself whatever I want but I can’t believe the lies I know I’ve told myself. … if that makes sense.
It was raining earlier. And it was dark, I was waiting at the bus stop and it was really pretty. The lights from the shop signs made the water on the road blue and pink and everything was quiet and peaceful… those are the moments when things are supposed to happen aren’t they? Someones meant to come around the corner and the next thing you know.
your clobbered with the stick of destiny and a year or two later your married and have ten children.
..I don’t like thinking these things. “It’s moments like these where somethings meant to happen”
It never does.
I don’t know why it’s so hard to drop it and let go. Just walk away and get on with life.
I’m just SO wrong.