I think it’s hard to be a man. It doesn’t feel like I’m allowed to say that. It’s hard to be a lot of things. Is that ok? Can we all be living with difficulty. And not need to make it about the things. I think it’s hard to be me, even though I’m white and my parents have a little money. My brother lives with our parents. That sounds undesired. But really he’s doing great. He’s smart and always has a plan, and has extra money now to dream up new ways to do good things. I don’t really live anywhere, but sometimes we are all in the same house. He has two jobs and three kids and an ex wife who took half of his stuff and married someone else. I don’t think that is her fault, her life seems hard too, she takes care of a lot of kids now. And I’m just me, but that’s not easy either.
I think it’s weird that our nation is of the top percentage of wealth anywhere. But still there’s poverty. It’s probably poisonous, the whole concoction of it. It feels like poor people are supposed to hate me. I’m in a lot of debt. It’s my fault. I’m an idiot. I chased after things I thought I wanted. I spent my life on solving for life. I guess at some point, I forgot. You know? Like there was a time when I knew what I was supposed to do, but then I saw a shiny thing and wandered off.
I have never really known what I want. I try to help people, but I kinda suck at stuff. I get frustrated at how I can’t be helpful and also help myself. It doesn’t feel like the world wants me to be myself. I try to make the most of things. Then people blame me for breaking things. That blame makes me feel broken. In that broken spirit I allow the pressure crush of those closest to use me, and wonder if I am just not as good as everyone else. I look up from my pit at the pedestals of everyone I know. A damp eyed echo of a hollow whimper… I thought we were supposed to use things, not people. So I trade steamy sobs for starry thoughts in my shame. I chase after people I wish I knew, shaping ideas of them incapably, balancing wobbly new monoliths from an imaginary image.
I’ve spent my life trying to be a someone. Maybe someone who can fix things, or build things, or be inspiring. But… I think too much. And people think I’m crazy. I probably am. I feel too much. I thought I was supposed to do that too. But my feelings aren’t acceptable. I guess I share too much too. I’m sorry that I’m me.
I try to trust, that I’m doing it for us. But maybe I’m really not. Maybe I’m just trying to have a life I like. It doesn’t feel like I’m allowed to do that without becoming someone I don’t like.
I think people are jealous of my life. It’s probably a good one. I get to do a lot of stuff. This body is healthy enough. I can see and move my feet, and my hands are useful for somebody. I can go to work. My brain works ok most days. I like making jokes, but I’m kindof an asshole, even though I think most people can tell I care. I think I’m mean, but also kind and generous with my time. I think I’m different. I don’t often agree. But I try to make up for it by being there for people, even though I suck at that too. I’m often off in some far off magic place, crafting a new future in my mental escape. Most days I’m not so sure I’m anywhere at all.
I think I’m a net plus on the world, but it doesn’t feel that way. I feel like a drain, a succubus, acting out to get what I want, taking taking as much as I can stomach. I still don’t know what I want, but I hope I’m getting it. I hope that’s ok.
I don’t think I understand people, and they don’t understand me back. That sucks. I try anyways but I’m always surprised. Then someone feels attacked. I don’t really care how people live their lives, but I do care that they have a life. Like… a life that makes them smile and want to share how cool it is and how amazing it makes them feel. It doesn’t seem like many of us get a chance to pull our heads out of our ass and see how incredible life is. I get it though, I like looking at butts too, but I don’t really know why they are so important.
I try to be considerate, then spend too much time considering. I make attempts to be a friend, but I suck at that too. I’m busy. There is so much to do.
I think I could be humble, but my thoughts aren’t that. They are mostly evil. It’s a miracle my thinking and actions don’t match. That’s a bit of a problem though, cause it feels like I am at war with all my choices. I’m wrong a lot, it hurts to admit that, but I trained myself to live with pain if it makes life a little less gray and unpredictable.
I try to tell people that I love them, but so many don’t really want to hear that. Maybe I don’t know how to love. Maybe they think I want something in return. I don’t usually get much back but a broken heart, and more stories I wish I didn’t have.
It’s hard for me to believe that I chose this life. I remind myself a lot: “you chose this life.” I say it like I’m convincing someone. I say it out loud. I pray for direction and not for things. I meditate every day, not because it’s trendy or that I want to take over the world or that I want to expand beyond myself and see the whole universe. I do it so I don’t fall apart. I need that every day. I don’t sleep so well. That’s ok, but I’m kinda terrible when I don’t rest. I get all restless, crave chocolate, drink too much coffee, then make bad decisions. I don’t treat people so well when I am unwell. I’m addicted to things. Some of them I don’t do, I don’t have a reason why. I say it’s because I want a better life, and you wouldn’t like me if I did them.
I like being liked, but I think I could handle it if people decided that I wasn’t worth the trouble. I’m alone a lot. I tell people it’s by choice. I’m getting tired of making that excuse. It’s really cause I’m afraid. People scare me, they want and need and can’t stop doing. I don’t want to sacrifice me to be with an anyone. But I’m not so good at choosing a good one.
No one has chosen me yet. It’s hard to live with that reality. I guess it takes different time for different people for the right person to say you’re it forever. It’s pretty complicated. And improbable. I think I’d be ok if I never was found or couldn’t find myself a someone else. I thought I did a bunch of times, but they ended up ending things and not telling me why. That’s confusing. It would be easier to be more desired if we weren’t all playing shadow games. But I don’t want to change, just so you will want me.
I don’t lie anymore, at least not intentionally. I think a lot of us are lying to ourselves, then it doesn’t seem like we are lying to each other cause we already believe the lie. That’s a lot to swallow. It hurts more to be honest, but I do it anyways, even though it feels like the pain is going to kill me someday.
I try to succeed, but sometimes I wonder... would I be content as a one hit wonder? Do I need a legacy of achievement to prove that my effort was worth my art? At what point would I stop? Could I live with myself if nothing I ever made was recognized for how good it was?
I don't have an answer, because none of that has happened yet. I think that's what keeps me going, but I won't know until I stop.
I think what I regret the most is not the mistakes I made or decisions I didn’t take, but the time I didn’t spend enjoying things, the wasted energy I was being someone disgruntled at life, when I could have been grateful that I got another day to wake up to the sunrise and walk around on planet that I don’t understand, a place that sometimes I fight against, and no matter how much I try to undo it, it keeps me alive.
I think I’m going to keep going, even though suicide sounds nice sometimes. I’ll probably imagine it a few more instances before I decide. The mind gets really silly about how it would end itself. Most of the time it’s about jumping off something. I’m scared of heights, but that also seems kinda fun, jumping to the end. I think that’s why I keep my imagination half tucked away, cause some of it would really do some damage, and I don’t think I really want to add more hurt or hard to a world like this.
I feel like I don’t know who I am, but I think I’ll know. Somehow I still have hope. And it’s nice outside today. I think I’ll go enjoy it.
Wow Lee, just wow! 💜 And I agree with Simon's comment.