opheliadoll

I hated school. I hated work. I hated boredom. I had a happy childhood. There was adolescence, growing up, questions about the future. I had no dream.

School dragged like a weight... it was a jail. Teachers fakers, students dull, phony jokers.
I didn't feel treated badly, but wrongly, played with, misunderstood.
Teachers didn't inspire me; none were influences, none made me want to go on and become something special.

I hated making friends, having friends, and people who wanted to be friends. I didn't want to be friends. I was bored, tired, young, and sick. Everything I looked at I hated.
The world wasn't free. It was a drag to live. I wanted my life to start.

My parents worried that I had problems. I was abnormal. I liked to read books.
I didn't think my mother and father had issues. I didn't think of them as having a relationship that could deteriorate. They divorced, remarried other people, and divorced again.

I had favorite bands and movies. I thought the things I liked would never die.
Things faded. I was unexcited. I got tired of complaining.

I thought I was in love, bit my lip as my hymen broke.
Sucked dicks, let myself become an object. I thought I was ugly.
I stuck fingers down my throat, attempting to empty the alien I carried around in my guts.
Went in and out of treatment, got caught stealing lacy underwear, scarred my body with blades.
I dwelled on the past, how stupid I was, what I should have done.
I wanted clarity, to understand, to know where I was going.
I didn't want to keep serving people muffins and lattes, wearing a generic uniform, asking if they want whipped cream on that.

I got tired of people enjoying themselves, not minding anything, doing drugs, living lives, wearing nice clothes, walking to chase the soggy dream. I was tired of beer-stained rugs, stinky apartments, smiling people putting drinks in my hands. Tired of hating food, hating people, hating the fact that I was so fucking hateful.

I wanted to do everything, afraid that I wouldn't do anything, and life would pass me by. I hoped that it was all just a dream.

And now, here I am. Still pretty fearful, still pretty broken. But hopeful. I know that life can be beautiful. It's about taking what you have and turning it into something real. It's about finding pleasure and wonder in the little things, instead of dwelling on everything that's rotten. It's about the choices we make,

and I choose happiness.