wondering&wandering
My precious moon! Don't go, please.
- Jan 12, 2024
- 122
I'm so insecure it's funny. But then I'm just so so insecure it's not funny. And then I laugh to myself because it really is funny.
I'll never understand why I am the way I am. Too smart for my own good to ignorantly make my way through life happily, but too dumb to make any actual progress to do anything about my unhappiness.
I'm a writer, but all I write are vents to myself and others. I'm a musician, but all I play is myself into thinking I'll ever actually practice enough to be good.
I'm going to take the world by storm with my book I plan on writing and the music I plan on creating! But the storm that is the world has ripped my creativity to shreds with the shards of insecurities that fly around me demanding my attention.
I hate myself. I love everyone else. I want to be seen, but I want to disappear. I'm a walking contradiction that lives on the breath of people's validation, yet dies inside at too much exposure.
I want to continue to breathe, but I want to cease to breathe. I love you all. Like a naive, pathetic, and ignorant chump I want to invite you all to see you all in one place. We'd dance and sing and yell and throw each other against the walls opening holes in the drywall and gazing at the dark black holes we created. Hugs would be aplenty, tears our choice of drink, and words would suffice as sustenance for our eternal night.
But I'd awake the next morning knowing very well it was a dream. A dream I shared alone as I made memories in a reality that never was nor will be. I love how hauntingly beautiful my dreams have been. The nightmares too. Everything feels more right in them. It's only when I don't think I'm dreaming that the dream feels wrong.
I digress. I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know why I'm living. I don't know why I'm complaining. I don't know so many things. I do know, however, that I'm insecure.
But maybe, just maybe I'm improving at something because I'm posting this vent despite all the sirens wailing between my ears, despite the sick feeling in my stomach that will surely last the rest of the day, and despite still hating myself.
Guess I'm just a wondering, wandering soul that wishes it inhabited a better mind. So yeah, thems my 2 cents.
I'll never understand why I am the way I am. Too smart for my own good to ignorantly make my way through life happily, but too dumb to make any actual progress to do anything about my unhappiness.
I'm a writer, but all I write are vents to myself and others. I'm a musician, but all I play is myself into thinking I'll ever actually practice enough to be good.
I'm going to take the world by storm with my book I plan on writing and the music I plan on creating! But the storm that is the world has ripped my creativity to shreds with the shards of insecurities that fly around me demanding my attention.
I hate myself. I love everyone else. I want to be seen, but I want to disappear. I'm a walking contradiction that lives on the breath of people's validation, yet dies inside at too much exposure.
I want to continue to breathe, but I want to cease to breathe. I love you all. Like a naive, pathetic, and ignorant chump I want to invite you all to see you all in one place. We'd dance and sing and yell and throw each other against the walls opening holes in the drywall and gazing at the dark black holes we created. Hugs would be aplenty, tears our choice of drink, and words would suffice as sustenance for our eternal night.
But I'd awake the next morning knowing very well it was a dream. A dream I shared alone as I made memories in a reality that never was nor will be. I love how hauntingly beautiful my dreams have been. The nightmares too. Everything feels more right in them. It's only when I don't think I'm dreaming that the dream feels wrong.
I digress. I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know why I'm living. I don't know why I'm complaining. I don't know so many things. I do know, however, that I'm insecure.
But maybe, just maybe I'm improving at something because I'm posting this vent despite all the sirens wailing between my ears, despite the sick feeling in my stomach that will surely last the rest of the day, and despite still hating myself.
Guess I'm just a wondering, wandering soul that wishes it inhabited a better mind. So yeah, thems my 2 cents.
