today isn’t mine

Not mine to share, not mine to tell. Not my secret. Not my story.

Today doesn’t belong to me. Because today is different. Today doesn’t have any of my hopes or fears or dreams. None of my loves or hates, likes or dislikes. Today is not about me. My heart isn’t mine, my soul isn’t here. Today has none of beliefs, opinions or judgments. None of my favourite songs, hobbies or pastimes. Not my tears to cry or my worries to pour out. Not my happiness to enjoy or my smiles to give. None of my anger. None of my loneliness. None of me.

Today isn’t mine. It’s yours.

You have Today.

I don’t.

Approach

I feel the gears of time pushing forward, edging on, in its journey approaching Nowhere. And once again, I fail to suppress these emotions; fear, guilt, regret, sorrow, frustration. They have already won. For here I am, sitting alone, and as long as I am this way, I know that I am not winning. I am safe but I am not victorious. This safeness I’ve so carefully withdrawn myself into accomplishes nothing. It leaves me detached and strips away my instincts for survival, telling me that I cannot. That I have nothing. That I have no purpose.

I always believe that it’s right. But only because I do not know or have any reason to believe otherwise. I am, have lost by default. Forfeit. I’ve given myself up. For lack of a spirit, a soul. For lack of conviction.

I am gone.

Pick me, Choose me, Love me

The thing about choices is that I’d like to think we have them. And most of the time we do. Some small like ‘what to eat’ and ‘when to wake up.’ Some big like ‘what do I want to do with my life?’

Not the same though, when it comes to people. Because whilst I’d like to think I have a say in who I choose to have any form of relationship with, the truth is:

they have to choose me too.

Choice

If it comes to this. To a choice between you or I. And maybe you haven’t noticed or you’ll pretend not to; they always choose you.

But this time, I hope, for once, they choose me.

you’ve sucked all the life outta’ me

“You used to have one ounce of life in you. What happened? Now it’s like you owe Life two ounces.”

Guess Life took a little too much of me. Maybe it’s time I was scrapped.

there’s only so much I could change

And I don’t want to change anymore. Somewhere between three years ago and now, I lost myself trying to be someone, and who really? I don’t even know anymore. Keeping track of change and people and behaviour. Somewhere between trying to fit in here and there, they and them, I can’t figure out who I am, if I am something or someone. I truly believe sometimes that all I am really, is an empty shell of a person. Hollow. Blank.

And now I find that I neither fit in here nor there. Nothing in common. Nothing worth mentioning. Nothing at all. Complete and utter nothing. Letting go of belonging to anywhere, I am nobody.

And I thought for a long time that maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I should make the changes. Maybe I should’ve done something. Maybe it’s me.

But I think now that, so what if it is? If this is who I am, or rather the tiny bit of who that I cling to, then I don’t want to change anymore even if it means I’ll have no one. For if someone were to finally get me, then I’ll know that they made that effort. That they’re real.

Today’s topic is

Resentment.

from the verb, resent

meaning (dictionary.com):

to feel or show displeasure or indignation at (a person, act, remark, etc.) from a sense of injury or insult.

This will come off as selfish so I might as well just get off my chest and let it be over and done with. Since, as well, that I have no one to talk to. Reasons for that are listed below if you care to scroll downwards. But today, particularly today, maybe from the buildup of a week, I don’t know if I’m looking forward to this. On top of disappointment of having to actually return to that city, irrational phobia of interaction with individuals, the constant uncertainty as to what I’m actually doing and or studying, and the stifling fact of being in a confined space; this is not something I’m looking to add to the list. It is not my choice but I’ve gotten used to things working out that way.

But I resent you for not making the decisions. I resent you for being an ass. I resent you for being useless and unfocused. I resent you for not realizing the severity of the situation. I resent you for placing yourself in my space. I resent having you around. And I will resent you once we are there.

The french say c’est la vie. I’m pretty sure they were drunk or high.

But isn’t everybody?

I am aware of the circumstances of my non-decision. I am also aware I can do nothing to change this. For who am I to strip away someone’s second chance which is putting it nicely enough. And I will say that this is one of the many things that do not go my way but yours. As always. Some of us, do not get the chances you get. And I will get over this, like I’ve gotten over so many other things. I know I’m stronger than you.

I find the trust waning

disappearing.

And suddenly I find I cannot trust anyone. Or I do not have the strength to trust anyone anymore.

And when I have all these things I want to say, I find that I do not trust anyone enough to say them and that they become insignificant.

that I have become insignificant.

the difference between a bad dream and a nightmare

a bad dream isn’t about terror or ghosts or monsters

a bad dream isn’t about homocide or genocide or mass destruction

a bad dream isn’t about running away and hiding in a little corner

a bad dream is one that makes you feel bad when you wake up

makes you feel like crying; if you do then you’re lucky, if not, then you keep it all bottled up inside, like you would a firefly only it’s dead.

a bad dream is one that draws on your fears and insecurities

rejection, abandonment, incompetence

and presents them in the package of the people you care about, which also happen to be the people you are most insecure with

a bad dream makes you feel like home isn’t what it is

like the world isn’t what it is

isn’t what it was

and something’s changing somewhere.

There must be some mistake somewhere

I may be wrong but I was under the impression that people were reliable. Trustworthy. Dependable. Isn’t there some rulebook to life that states that? Or at least give me the statistics. A heads up would be nice as well. Then, at least I’d be prepared and less inclined to throw myself into these last ditch efforts of relationships with people, be they platonic or otherwise.

It starts with the lack of words. Then the hours become shorter. Then the conversations become less frequent. Times are not met. Dates are forgotten. And Promises are not kept. And finally, things settle back into acquaintance and acquaintance ie. faces I used to see and care about which no longer evoke any emotion. You’d think though, that the frequency of such situations would hurt less each time. But really, with each new person comes new hope; perhaps this is the one who will break the cycle of the rest; yet, the cycle resets itself in a loop of emotions, of hopes, and loves and griefs and the where were yous become the who are yous.

And I know, it’s not entirely your fault. Perhaps, it isn’t at all. One must think, with my being the constant in all these failed endeavours, that it is I who is the problem, not you, not them. Not to be selfish, which I am, but I think, I should take this one. I should take the blame for this one. Somewhere along the line, I stopped trusting you first. And my doing so means that I’ve left you long before you ever came. Luggage packed, taxi’s come and my foot’s out the door. But you don’t know that. And you pretend like this, like I could still be who I was when you met me. But I need more than that. I need more than your empty words.

Ever notice you say things and don’t mean them?