I know you. You are too short, you have bad skin. You couldnt talk to them very well. Words didnt seem to work, they lied when they came out of your mouth. You tried so hard to understand them. You wanted to be part of what was happening you saw them having fun and it seem like such a mystery, almost magic. Made you think that there was something wrong with you you'd look in the mirror trying to find it. You thought that you were ugly and that everyone was looking at you so you learn to be invisible to look down to avoid conversation the hours, days weekends, ahh.. the weekend nights alone where were you? In the basement? In the attic? In your room? Working some job just to have something to do, just to have a place to put yourself just to have a way to get away from them, a chance to get away from the ones that made you feel so strange and ill at ease inside yourself. Did u ever get invited to one of their parties? You sat and wonder if you would go or not, for hours you would imagine the scenarios that might transpire. They would laugh at you, if you would know what to do, if would have the right things on, if they would notice that you came form a different planet? Did you get all brave in your thoughts? Like u were going to be able to go in there and deal with it and have a good time? Did you think that you might be the life of the party? That all of this people were gonna talk to you and you would find out that you were wrong, that you had a lot of friends and that you werent so strange after all? Did you end up going? Did they mess with you? Did they single you out? Did you find out that you were invited because they thought you were so weird? Yea.. I think I know you. You spent a lot of time full of hate, a hate that was pure of sunshine, a hate that sought for miles, a hate that kept you up at night, a hate that filled your every waking moment, a hate that carried you for a long time. Yes I think I know you. You couldnt figure out what they saw on the way they lived. Home was not home. Your ruin was home, a corner was home, the place they werent, that was home. I know you are sensitive and you hide because you fear getting stepped on one more time. It seems that when you show a part of yourself that is the least bit vulnerable, someone takes advantage of you, one of them steps on you. They mistake kindness for weakness, but you know the difference, you have been a brunt of weakness for years and strength is something that you know a bit about because you had to be strong to keep yourself alive. You know yourself very well now and u dont trust people. You know them too well. You try to find that special person someone you can be with, someone you can touch, someone you can talk to, someone you wont feel so strange around, and you find that they dont really exist. You feel closer to people on movie screens yea I think I know you. You spend a lot of time daydreaming and people have made comment to that effect telling you that you are self involved and self centered but they dont know do they? About the long nightshifts alone. About the years of keeping yourself company all the night you wrapped your arms around yourself so you could imagine someone holding you. The hours of indecision self-doubt, the intense depression, the blinding hate, the rage that made you stagger, the devastation of rejection? Well maybe they do know, but if they do they sure do a good job of hiding it. It outstands you how they can be sooo smooth how they seem to pass through life as if life itself was some divine gift and it infuriates you watch yourself with your apparent skill and finding any way possible to screw it up, for you life is a long trip terrifying and wonderful. Birds sing to you at night. The rain and the sun the changing seasons are true friends, solitude is a hard one ally faithful and patient.. yea I think I know you.
-Henry Rollins
NIN
So yea, most of you said its true in my past journal (well past past journal since i updated twice by mistake today)
Cheers fuckers.
-Henry Rollins
NIN
So yea, most of you said its true in my past journal (well past past journal since i updated twice by mistake today)
Cheers fuckers.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
You rock my ass