It’s difficult to write, when you have no
idea what it is you want to say. It’s actually quite silly that it’s an
on-going circle, you want to write to understand yourself, but can’t write
because you don’t. So the key I think, is for me to stop procrastinating, and
just, start. I’ve even made a writing playlist, if I’m truthful it really is
only all the sad songs on my phone that will put me in the proper head space to
actually explain myself. I’m going to light a cigarette now. There, now I feel
like the tormented writer I am, Katie Melua and Malboro Red to get me literate.
I’ve heard over and over again, how people
only call upon God in their hour of need, I feel like I am completely opposite
to that, both in prayer and in terms of writing. In my hour of need, usually it
isn’t just an hour, rather it’s a long period of time that feels like a life
time, I find myself shying away from things that make me face myself. I’m more
likely to face myself when I’m happy, when there are good things to trip on. I’ve
been drinking a lot, dancing a lot and kissing a lot, in order to rid myself of
myself, but here’s what I’m trying to do, what we all should, just like Dain
told me tonight, accept who I am.
You know about me, you’ve read my stuff, but
there’s another component to me, one that I shy away from people because the
idea of them seeing me, truly seeing me, frightens me so much. I spend a lot of
my time, trying to figure this life out, what I’m doing here in fact. I’m very
dark a lot of the time, but that part of me is hard to explain, you see – I
have no intention of making it out to be that because I have God in my life,
everything is fine and dandy, maybe subconsciously this is what I was doing by
shying away from this for so long. But it is that, the fact that I have God in
my life, that it is time for me to understand what I am and the fact that I,
perceive myself to be someone broken and tormented by the people I’ve scared, the
hearts I’ve broken and the minds I’ve poisoned.
You wouldn’t see it as poisoning minds, in
fact I dare to say that those I have poisoned don’t think so either, but I feel
like I have. I have given people, this notion of love that is never ending and
everlasting, perfect and blissful and then taken it away, because in the end I
realize how much I don't feel loved myself. That never was their fault though, I couldn't feel what I couldn't understand. I showed them this perfect love and romance, but in fact, even though I believe it exists out there, it wasn't real with us.
I’m sorry to say that now, especially if one of them were to read that, but to me, I was
giving them the love I thought they deserved, that everyone deserved but in
fact I was robbing them, robbing them of what was real.
I have lived my life for a long time as if I
was a character in a book, saying the right thing, doing the right thing,
making the right gestures, and kissing the right way. I don’t even mean it
metaphorically, I literally sit and plan out and write in my head, or tell
myself the story as I say what I say, or do what I do. I was a liar and I hate
liars. The thing about losing yourself to so many characters, is that along the
way, you lose yourself completely. I no longer know who I actually am, whether what I
feel or say is real, or if I’ve said something just because it is precisely
what has to be said. You’d think it were absurd for someone to be so sure of
themselves, but you’ve never been with me, or had a conversation with me, I’m
just that good; that good at manipulation and that good of a writer and
actress.
I don’t mean to say I don’t care for them;
the people I have been with, that I’ve told I love you too. They know that I
carry the guilt of their pain I caused with me for the rest of my life, that now I am
connected to them and would do anything for them because I’ve done something so
inconceivable, and they all deserved better. One of my exes once told me that I
sold her a fairy tale, that that’s what I did, I sold a fairy tale that didn’t
exist. And that hit me, because yes I do sell a fairy tale, but I’d left her
not believing in its existence. And it does exist.
All in all, I am sorry to all those I’ve
poisoned, and I pray they will find love, real true and honest love.
No comments:
Post a Comment