This is the first time I've ever really thought through or written any of this out, so forgive the scatteredness. It probably will never be written again, and I'll either forget I wrote this, or delete it...
In My World
Everything revolves around Me.
Spinning, circularly, around my faults and insecurities.
But I don’t like that very much.
That’s not a way to live.
So I change it.
In My World
Everything must be pushed away from myself.
My sphere must be enlarged
That way
Everything can revolve around everyone else.
But it doesn’t.
I do.
I revolve around everyone else.
I cannot separate sphere of self from self.
So I Don’t.
And I Hate that I can’t.
So I hate myself.
In My World
Elegance is defined by long coats.
Skinny jeans are ridiculous, unless the rest of you is already impossibly thin.
And even then you’re pushing it.
People are proportional when wearing normal pants, and boots.
Or… Anything else that makes them look sturdier.
Because tiny feet are ridiculous too.
But, not like skinny jeans.
Nothing is quite as bad as those..
In My World
Everyone has at least one voices which is not their own in their head.
One voice to be self.
One voice to be against self.
Of course, that may not be the rule.
There are three, for me.
Self
Against me
For me
And another me.
In My World
There is no such thing as a serious topic. Nothing holds any weight.
There is no gravity here.
Everything has a simple answer, you just have to know enough to find it.
In My World
There is no escape, because escaping never existed. Ever.
Everything is inevitable.
You can avoid dying, but you’ll still die eventually.
You can avoid getting hurt, but you’ll still experience pain.
You can avoid hurting others, but you’re bound to hurt someone.
(You can hide, but you can’t run.)
In My World
Words are everything.
But everything is nothing.
Likewise nothing is everything.
Nothing is everything
Because in the end nothing is all we have
But nothing is everything,
Because what nothing we have of the world is everything in world to come.
Time is nothing.
Time is everything.
Time is always running out.
(But does it matter?)
Depends on the day.
In My World
All is governed by patterns.
Everyone runs the same patterns.
Sort of.
You either run from things, you fight them, or you play with them.
Run from pain.
Fight pain.
Welcome pain.
Run from friendship.
Fight friendship.
Welcome friendship.
In the end there are only two options.
What you chose,
(And what you didn’t.)
In My World
Everyone is a person.
Every person deserves to be cared for.
Love is everything.
Everyone deserves unconditional love.
No matter how many times they break trust…
In My World
It is easy to trust people with many things.
Secrets.
Thoughts.
Emotions.
Because it doesn’t matter if I end up broken
Used.
Everyone deserves to be trusted.
Loved.
But to actually, truly, deeply trust someone?
To let someone love me?
That’s the hard thing.
It just… Doesn’t… Feel… Right.
In My World
Everyone comes broken.
It’s not their fault.
It’s not anyone’s fault.
What’s done is done.
Brokenness is the rule, for people.
And always assume others are right.
Never. Underestimate. Anyone.
Except for self. You can always underestimate yourself.
That just means you can be pleasantly surprised later.
In My World
Knives are good.
Fire is good.
The night. The night is amazing.
Moonlight is perfect.
Stars are perfect.
The sun is too bright, too intrusive.
In My World
No one can see my real thoughts. That’s not safe.
They’ll assume things.
Think I’m copying them.
Or think…
I’m not real.
Or that I’m crying out for help.
I want to.
But there’s nothing to be helped.
Not in any way a person can help, that is.
God.
Only God.
Only God knows… what’s going on in my head…
If I’m too much like you, then I won’t be real any more.
I won’t be me.
What if this isn’t my world?
What if it’s yours?
No. We are nothing alike.
In My World
It is my world. Only my world.
No one else’s world
This is the way we have always been.
This is the way I have always been.
Me.
Myself.
I.
Not you. Not anyone.
But… It changes.
My world changes, for anyone.
Not inside of me. Inside of me stays the same.
But the outside.
That changes.
It wouldn’t be safe if outside was like inside.
It isn’t safe.
It isn’t normal.
It bothers people.
(I bother people.)
I love other people.
But
I don’t know…
If they love me.
Friendship is a balance.
A careful
Balance.
What I am is broken. I know that.
Who I am is God’s. I know that too.
Who I am doesn’t change.
But what I am?
What others see?
That does.
That’s why…
I don’t know.
I don’t know what is and isn’t…
Me.
The outside, that’s been through so much.
Too much.
Nobody ever liked what was outside of me.
Because it wasn’t like the inside of them.
It clashed.
What was outside of me bothered what was all of them.
Inside of me, that’s never changed.
But I don’t know any more,
What is my mask
And what isn’t.
Nobody knows.
Only God.
Is it possible to remove a mask?
Who knows..
Only God…
This is my world.
Turmoil.
Chaos.
Intrigue and Apathy.
I don’t care, but I am curious.
Inside detached from outside.
Apathetic.
But inside wanting to know.. Everything.
Intrigued.
My face and my mask.
(They keep me safe.)
In My World
Are you in my world?
