There’s nothing wrong with saying something. Most of the time, the words just won’t come out. As soon as you leave the room, I’ve got it. I know exactly what to say. But in the heat of the moment, my backbone collapses. I have nothing to give, nothing to stand for. So, in my own way, I’m beginning to talk. Even if it’s just on the internet, I’m saying something. Maybe it’ll reach a few people. But it really isn’t about the audience. It’s about me. Proof to myself that I have a voice.
Don’t you realize how much you scare me? Or maybe you don’t, maybe I don’t know you well enough to be scared.
You’re older than me, just old enough to have me doubting myself. I don’t want to look up to you; I want to be your equal.
Your nose is too big. You really show that German nose. My friend saw a picture of you and commented on it. I felt self-conscious. I chastised myself almost instantly. But still. You have a big nose.
You’re too tall. Way too tall. And I’m tall, so thinking you’re too tall really says something. About me, maybe it’s saying something about me. Maybe thinking you’re too tall and your nose is too big is the universe’s way of saying I’m a superficial person.
But I don’t think I am.
And you don’t call or text regularly.
And that’s not my problem.
I’m not a horrible person because you don’t call or text regularly.
Objectively, it’s a problem.
I’d like to reform myself now. Start again.
I want to create this perfect space that allows beauty and ugliness and frailty and my deep-rooted fears of life. The next four months will be mine. I will change myself. I will grow into me, become someone I create entirely by myself.
Wish me luck. I wish myself luck.
You’re wonderful. Unique. I love you.
Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.
If you love a flower, don’t pick it up.”
because if you pick it up it dies and it ceases to be what you love.
So if you love a flower, let it be.
Love is not about possession.
Love is about appreciation.
Dec 18, 2012
I’ve been wasting my life away for about a week now (ignoring final exams and all that).
I have absolutely no idea what I want to do for a career. I don’t know what I want to study; I can’t even think of a subject I enjoy more than tumblr.
I’ve completely failed my classes this semester, wasting away my parents’ money. Though I have some built up hostility towards them anyway, maybe this will lighten the load.
And I’ve fallen into the devastating hole of unrequited love.