Promises broken or forgotten
I always promise myself I'll write more. Months go by and suddenly it dawns on me that I've yet again forgotten or tossed aside the shreds of a promise I had made. So much happens in my life but it happens in my head. I'm not always certain what's real and what is simply my perception or the outside world.
I go through the motions, but I never truly dance. Awkwardly, I stumble and stop.
I never thought I'd make it past 30. I'm 13 years past my expiration date and still slogging along through this thing called life. I'm not even sure where I'm going or where I've been. It all sounds cliche and trite. And it is. Which makes me sad, ashamed, and wishing I were invisible.
I still have the same aspirations as I did at 16 years old. I want to be smarter, prettier, thinner, more successful. Perfect. Such a loaded word, perfect is. I'm not even sure what it means anymore. Perfect sounds so neat and clean, all wrapped up in a pretty box tied with a bow. So constricting and almost a trap. But the temptress perfection draws me in with her convincing lies. The promises that just like mine, are in the end, shattered like pieces of glass at my feet. A reflection of my disappointment--of the disappointment that is me.
Sorry this entry is such a downer. It's not a pity party or anything--just raw emotion. I don't tend to allow myself to feel real emotion anymore. I use other things to numb what really hurts, to blur the pain inside, and mask the tears running down my face. It's an easy fix and although it's only temporary, it works like magic. Sadly, the magic is fleeting and then I'm back in the same place where I began. The emotions bubble up inside me. And the cycle begins anew.
Mia, you're a bitch. Ally, you suck the life out of me. And, Katia, you are evil.
Thank you dear readers....if there are any, for reading this missive.
I go through the motions, but I never truly dance. Awkwardly, I stumble and stop.
I never thought I'd make it past 30. I'm 13 years past my expiration date and still slogging along through this thing called life. I'm not even sure where I'm going or where I've been. It all sounds cliche and trite. And it is. Which makes me sad, ashamed, and wishing I were invisible.
I still have the same aspirations as I did at 16 years old. I want to be smarter, prettier, thinner, more successful. Perfect. Such a loaded word, perfect is. I'm not even sure what it means anymore. Perfect sounds so neat and clean, all wrapped up in a pretty box tied with a bow. So constricting and almost a trap. But the temptress perfection draws me in with her convincing lies. The promises that just like mine, are in the end, shattered like pieces of glass at my feet. A reflection of my disappointment--of the disappointment that is me.
Sorry this entry is such a downer. It's not a pity party or anything--just raw emotion. I don't tend to allow myself to feel real emotion anymore. I use other things to numb what really hurts, to blur the pain inside, and mask the tears running down my face. It's an easy fix and although it's only temporary, it works like magic. Sadly, the magic is fleeting and then I'm back in the same place where I began. The emotions bubble up inside me. And the cycle begins anew.
Mia, you're a bitch. Ally, you suck the life out of me. And, Katia, you are evil.
Thank you dear readers....if there are any, for reading this missive.
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