Every journey I share becomes uncertain simply because my presence distorts the pathway.
Everything I touch becomes ugly for my influence is sure to taint it.
It’s my place to suffer. It’s where I belong.
If I don’t make a stand for others, I’d be silently confessing that they’re not important enough.
Gripping onto the pain
It’s hard for me to forgive, it’s hard for me to forget. I hold onto this pain with such force, it’s as though my life depends on it.
If I don’t hold on, there will be no-one to fight for me, stand up for me, support me - I only have myself. No-one else believes in me. No-one else deems me to be important enough. It’s just me against the world.
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.
I am unworthy and don’t have a place in this world. It’s not my right to follow my ambitious dreams and reach new heights of excellence. It’s not my right to be in your presence. I feel so filthy, like a permanent stain. I fantisize about bad, gruesome, fatal things happening to me as though I look forward to them, when in fact, I don’t. I expect these things to happen to me. I know I deserve every painful experience. I feel that it is my place to suffer.
M heart aches for those who suffer the most heart shattering of realities. They deserve better. They deserve the opportunities I have.
There’s no denying that some people just have it easier than others. People react so warmly towards them - they’re liked regardless of their flaws.
I hate it when these likeable people try to make people like me - the unlikable and the looked down upon - feel better by saying ‘your problem is that you see your glass as half empty’. It’d be a lot courteous if certain people would acknowledge the fact that they have less problems than I do. I’ll never understand why I’ve gone through more pain than others and why others have faced even worse realities. Is it because we deserve this? Is it because THIS is the only way we’ll learn life lessons? Are our prayers being answered through these experiences?
Mr. Know It All,
Well ya, think you know it all,
But ya, don’t know a thing at all,
Ain’t it something y’all,
When somebody tells you something bout you,
Think that they know you more than you do […]
Oh you think that you know me,
That’s why I’m leaving you lonely […]
You don’t know a thing about me,
You ain’t got the right to tell me
When and where to go, no right to tell me […]
Being with people takes a lot of energy. By the end of the day, so much energy has been drained. The only remedy is to indulge in some extensive ‘me time’. When I’m alone, in blissful solitude, I feel energised, capable and strong. It’s a feeling of peace that I can never attain while I’m with my family or friends. It would surprise many to know that it feels a lot like home to me.
I hold on to pain as though my existence depends on it. I recreate bad experiences in my mind oh so vividly. I remember every word and every emotion. I can’t let go. It explains the emptiness I often feel and justifies exactly why I’m so behind in life.
When I do things for my dad, I don’t always dedicate my full attention to it. So when I make slight mistakes, he assumes that THAT is the way I normally function. But in fact, he doesn’t even know how meticulous I can be. He doesn’t see who I am because I cannot be who I am around him. I’m paralysed in his presence.
I’d care if the person I reblogged this from committed suicide.
Imagine that! No worries for the rest of your days! No social anxiety. No self-doubt. No hatred. No conflict. No inequality. No sadness. How overwhelming would that sense of relief be!?
And so, I procrastinate until it does.