Let's Not Get All
A ticking time bomb waiting to hear the words that will never be uttered; never ever. Like a wolf with too little food waiting greedily, ravenously, and there is no satiation with the next meal. The absolute disappointment. Let down.
I am your ridiculous expectation.
Slow the thoughts in your mind until you see them one at a time, until they pass slowly enough that you are able to see the stem. For so long I have been terrified of not being "enough" of something. The fallacy of perfection, who in the world has gotten past this insidious malady? Darwin had it wrong, or there has been some huge ideological shift since his time; humans aren't geared towards survival, we're geared to hate ourselves, to find ourselves base, awful, disgusting. Knee-jerk reactions. So silly, so silly. Ego defense mechanisms in full swing when really the ego is the first thing that would get you killed. (For something as petty and meaningless as pride.) Is there such an existant thing, as a real human being? How the hell would I even define such an idea?
Anne.
Patrick.
No more fronts, no more of the bullshit that just keeps us caught on the same ridiculous train track, head on the rail. Breaking up is fucking hard, and it makes you feel like you're crazy. In between feeling like you have no idea who the hell you just spent the last three years of your life with, you want this familiar stranger to admit that they miss you, to show you the tracest amount of compassion, and why? To what end? There is no logic in any of it. Being human is so frustrating sometimes. So, instead of anything real there's just all of this vague nonsense that doesn't mean anything, this posturing, fronts, back spin, and none of it matters. Egos. No one feels pain, right? There is no point to get across, it's all just words flying out into space, and the past doesn't belong to you anyway. So you get on with it.
The idea that humans are meant to find their "one" in this world, their "soul mate" is so indelibly ingrained into our brains from such an early age, and why? That shit is like crack that people sell to each other to justify twenty years of having their cooking insulted, twenty years of picking up dirty socks. And now I'm sounding quite jaded indeed. I need people in my life, yes, I have my friends, and I can't imagine what my sanity would be like without them. But a soul mate? Please. In the words of Manny, "fuck that shit mang." It's work enough being my own soul mate.
I am your ridiculous expectation.
Slow the thoughts in your mind until you see them one at a time, until they pass slowly enough that you are able to see the stem. For so long I have been terrified of not being "enough" of something. The fallacy of perfection, who in the world has gotten past this insidious malady? Darwin had it wrong, or there has been some huge ideological shift since his time; humans aren't geared towards survival, we're geared to hate ourselves, to find ourselves base, awful, disgusting. Knee-jerk reactions. So silly, so silly. Ego defense mechanisms in full swing when really the ego is the first thing that would get you killed. (For something as petty and meaningless as pride.) Is there such an existant thing, as a real human being? How the hell would I even define such an idea?
Anne.
Patrick.
No more fronts, no more of the bullshit that just keeps us caught on the same ridiculous train track, head on the rail. Breaking up is fucking hard, and it makes you feel like you're crazy. In between feeling like you have no idea who the hell you just spent the last three years of your life with, you want this familiar stranger to admit that they miss you, to show you the tracest amount of compassion, and why? To what end? There is no logic in any of it. Being human is so frustrating sometimes. So, instead of anything real there's just all of this vague nonsense that doesn't mean anything, this posturing, fronts, back spin, and none of it matters. Egos. No one feels pain, right? There is no point to get across, it's all just words flying out into space, and the past doesn't belong to you anyway. So you get on with it.
The idea that humans are meant to find their "one" in this world, their "soul mate" is so indelibly ingrained into our brains from such an early age, and why? That shit is like crack that people sell to each other to justify twenty years of having their cooking insulted, twenty years of picking up dirty socks. And now I'm sounding quite jaded indeed. I need people in my life, yes, I have my friends, and I can't imagine what my sanity would be like without them. But a soul mate? Please. In the words of Manny, "fuck that shit mang." It's work enough being my own soul mate.
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