made it there, nothing came over me.

17 02 2012

This is the most complex thing I’ve ever seated myself into; a recollection of events? I’ve got empty sockets; I admit I’m not the person I’d like to be, and I don’t feel what I’ve seen of myself in a mirror.

My pockets aren’t full, nor is my brain when I actually try to figure out what I’ll become of myself, or when I simply try to piece together the events in a day; I feel clouded. Incapable.

Living from paycheck to paycheck, thin on time, and testing the patience of everyone I’ve met, doesn’t seat well. I can sleep to blackened brains, in no one’s thoughts. Some reputation I’ve made I guess. Some thing I’ve done to get these brains all against me, or something, or maybe everyone has grown sick of my paranoia?

We were all raised to respect things, and we were all so quick to break the rules. Mirrored now, surely. And still I give them the impression I’m the image of a saint. I’m still a fucking asshole, things hardly earn my respect, aside from those I’d like to call my friends. I have met a deal of good people, but I’m pretty far gone; for now.

Not good enough anymore, for them or me. There’s a really cool side to this all, the person I want to be, but find myself punching the snooze button on.. the girl that stuck to a real mind, a beating heart, and had that slick little mind, with the hip clothing and a smile constantly in the window. The girl that can afford to buy jeans, and enjoy a night off. Well, through this entire maelstrom of negativity; I’ve got hope, I’ll be that girl; It’s something I won’t ignore. I know in my heart, that I’ll get by. I know that my life isn’t built on lies.

I’m always so mixed in my own head, in my own words. Most people don’t know what it is to have these huge ideas, with no means to lift them.

I’ve been complaining I’m sure; it’s all from noticing what’s been happening right in front of me, shit hands have been dealt, and the news I hear is always talking negative to me. My eyes sparkle up when I look back on the heat, and the sprinklers of the summers. The summers that I’ve wasted with a boy I mean nothing or little to.

If you’ve made it this far, and you are not clicking ‘unfollow’ or rather writing me off in this mind you’ve got, maybe you could help me figure out how to un-fuck this whole situation? thoughts, critic, anything?

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One response

4 04 2012
Hopeful Romantic

Aw Jackie. I wish I could help you “un-fuck” your situation. From one romantic to another, maybe you answered this in your post about regrets (most things can’t be un-fucked). I know it spoke to me so thanks for writing it.

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