A diary entry: the last piece
23.7.2018
I got this urge recently to try and find one solid defintion about myself one i could finish an argument a defintion like the one i read in dictionaries except maybe a bit more poetic so i coul whisper it to a lover in a balcony one day while watching the sun rise as if it was always there .so easy.as if i was born with a catlogue as if i didn't fall into old traps while trying to toy with feelings to test them as if i didn't get poisened by words before or took somebody's vision of me as the ultimate truth which i wish was true but it isn't i have stayed up so often trying to make plans to be more silent for a loved one smaller for another i have so many self defence mechanisms and i don't know what's more annoying the fact that i feel the need to use them too many times a day or my awarness of it all..
I am trying to find a definition because in my head it seems like the perfect solution for everything so that i could isolate myself without looking for a reason or getting angry without having to draw my roots and demonstrate the deep reasons for what moves me so i don't have to be sorry for my feelings.i am moved by the simplest things and it's too much for most people and i say those words as an armor or a shield at the beginning of every sitting so that they know that i want them to make their choice of either choosing me or choosing out and they always choose me and i wish it was that simple and inocent but it's out of pure curiosity and not much time will pass before i am asked to lay off swearing to wear my hair differently or use another choice of emotions if not to get a hold of them.
on the course of the last six years i was the desperate lover i was the fire of youth in the lives of old men i was a home wreck i was a victim and i was survivor i was a nice accident a good comfort for someone who mistook my kindness for love and built imaginary homes and put me in them despite that he had his dick stuck in some wall i was the good friend and the selfish friend i was asking for shit to happen i was demanding to be used like i was too emotional and too blind to see the truth . i was too fat to be called beautiful and i was called so beautiful that i needed to offer a part of me as a price because people like me must pay for their existence they have to enudre the whole world drawing assumptions on their bodies trying to dominate all the feelings they call too much but you still seek and run after them. you have to resist the way they want you to submit the way that whenever you are proud of yourself you become a bitch with an ego too big to have a lover give you a second glance..
It's facinating that i don't feel like any of the people i made to wear their skin i mean they are all nice despite how harsh and cringe worthy their labels are i know that there's more to a person than their actions or the way they put themselves out to the world their is the essence of their creation the history their souls hold and what they choose to own the things they return home with.. And it's frustrating how i am close to a definition that will save me the everyday trials that i go through but never close enough to actually grasp it so i try to expose myself to places define mountains and strangers define sole emotions and different suns into an atlas of the world in which i'll be the last defintion the missing puzzle piece .the way my mother Eve was the last creature and the one who marked the beginning
I got this urge recently to try and find one solid defintion about myself one i could finish an argument a defintion like the one i read in dictionaries except maybe a bit more poetic so i coul whisper it to a lover in a balcony one day while watching the sun rise as if it was always there .so easy.as if i was born with a catlogue as if i didn't fall into old traps while trying to toy with feelings to test them as if i didn't get poisened by words before or took somebody's vision of me as the ultimate truth which i wish was true but it isn't i have stayed up so often trying to make plans to be more silent for a loved one smaller for another i have so many self defence mechanisms and i don't know what's more annoying the fact that i feel the need to use them too many times a day or my awarness of it all..
I am trying to find a definition because in my head it seems like the perfect solution for everything so that i could isolate myself without looking for a reason or getting angry without having to draw my roots and demonstrate the deep reasons for what moves me so i don't have to be sorry for my feelings.i am moved by the simplest things and it's too much for most people and i say those words as an armor or a shield at the beginning of every sitting so that they know that i want them to make their choice of either choosing me or choosing out and they always choose me and i wish it was that simple and inocent but it's out of pure curiosity and not much time will pass before i am asked to lay off swearing to wear my hair differently or use another choice of emotions if not to get a hold of them.
on the course of the last six years i was the desperate lover i was the fire of youth in the lives of old men i was a home wreck i was a victim and i was survivor i was a nice accident a good comfort for someone who mistook my kindness for love and built imaginary homes and put me in them despite that he had his dick stuck in some wall i was the good friend and the selfish friend i was asking for shit to happen i was demanding to be used like i was too emotional and too blind to see the truth . i was too fat to be called beautiful and i was called so beautiful that i needed to offer a part of me as a price because people like me must pay for their existence they have to enudre the whole world drawing assumptions on their bodies trying to dominate all the feelings they call too much but you still seek and run after them. you have to resist the way they want you to submit the way that whenever you are proud of yourself you become a bitch with an ego too big to have a lover give you a second glance..
It's facinating that i don't feel like any of the people i made to wear their skin i mean they are all nice despite how harsh and cringe worthy their labels are i know that there's more to a person than their actions or the way they put themselves out to the world their is the essence of their creation the history their souls hold and what they choose to own the things they return home with.. And it's frustrating how i am close to a definition that will save me the everyday trials that i go through but never close enough to actually grasp it so i try to expose myself to places define mountains and strangers define sole emotions and different suns into an atlas of the world in which i'll be the last defintion the missing puzzle piece .the way my mother Eve was the last creature and the one who marked the beginning
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