My skin will rot but my energy will not. My heart will stop but my soul will not. My hopes will turn to ash but my ghost will not. My bones can break but my matter cannot. My moments will end but their marrow will not. One day i will die, but there are parts of me that cannot.
I hate how much I complain.
It is annoying.
Whenever I hear someone complaining, I get frustrated,
it is usually an excuse, usually it’s your own goddamn fault.
Life is going to fuck you over and over.
Your heart is going to be broken expertly, so many times like a fucking joke.
You can’t stop that, people are going to let you down time
and time again. They will deceive you, feed on your belief
that people don’t just do mean, awful things to each other
for no reason, or just for their own selfish reasons.
They do. They always will.
This should be about how you fight back.
I can be angry, pissed off, short tempered,
this is where the good stuff happens.
It’s how many times we get back on our feet.
It’s how you deal with the hand you dealt.
Stop blaming everyone else.
This is your fight. Your life is you chance to show
how much you’re willing to take and stay on your feet.
I’m dealing with reality, life is what you make of it.
All the bullshit I write about being lonely and sad is
stupid. It’s whining, but it’s spitting out the tar and
dirt and small pieces of rock and glass.
This is my way of fighting back, and
finding my way, no matter what.
But fuck living with damage control, trying to soften
the blows with padding. i want to feel everything.
There’s not much you can do to me that someone hasn’t done
before, so try me. I’m still here. No one gets it, they think
they do, they think this is how their brain works, I guess you
can convince yourself of anything. I hate most of the things I say
and do, if you are not here then you obviously didn’t get it.
I’m still here.
“Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations. Don’t over-analyze your relationships. Stop playing games. A growing relationship can only be nurtured by genuineness.”
(Fritz Perls, 1969)