everything has changed, once twice three times over. Yet I still feel as lonely as I did when I was 14. It’s a strange occurrence when you simultaneously experience wanting to be alone and loathing being alone. Give yourself away to these feelings, in the quiet comfort of solitude or with a warm friend. Do you ever fall in love with strangers? I do all the time. People I know, but know very little about. I’ve decided I’ve never really known romantic love and I’m not sure if it exists… I fall in love with the idea of people, their thoughts, their words, and my projected image of who I think they are. I’ve done what I said I wouldn’t do… I got myself caught in the perpetual cycle working a demeaning job that I don’t enjoy, purely for the benefit of money that doesn’t last so I can create a false sense of security when all I ever wanted was freedom. But you know, those tortured artist types don’t make very reliable mothers. The worst thing I could ever do to myself is to go against my own identity. When I stray from my center and start becoming someone else, you’ll know I’ve fucking lost it. At a very young age I knew who I was and nobody was ever going to tell me otherwise, so now at 21 it’s so goddamned painful for me to fake it. But nobody really notices, and I don’t really show it.
When I used to do writing assignments in school, my teachers always told me my writing had “voice”. What’s strange about that is the voice in my writing is the voice in my head, that is how I think on a regular basis. A constant stream of inner dialogue. I feel like I was meant for so much more than this life, I cannot explain it. My anxiety is at ease though, I am confident my time will come. People are strange, the way they judge people by their outer appearance or what they’re interested in. Who really gives a shit what you wear or what you like? If you can hold my attention, you’re worthy of it, seeing as that is not such an attainable task. You must be an interesting person to be allowed into my realm. Arrogant? Maybe. But selective nonetheless. I don’t know if I’ve ever truly loved another. I love people’s minds, but more importantly, I love thoughts and words and ideas. My child is the one exception. Love is ultimate sacrifice, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. This is all so very scattered, an accurate portrayal of my everyday thinking patterns. It has no point, it never does, just goes on and on… much like life.