We Spoke Again Last Night

Why is it that the thing I want most in all of the lands, I push away the hardest with both hands?  I am a manipulator and a charlatan.  Why am I such an awful person?  I have photos of me as a kid, picking flowers and being joyful.  I wasn't born negative.  I wasn't born hoping to make relationships only to suffocate the life out of them.  Now I've become so good at it that I don't even realize I'm participating in my own demise.  I think I've become someone I hate, therefore I spread the vitriol like a thick paste over everyone that comes near me.  Is it simply fear that compels me to be awful?  I've fucked up and I don't know that I can remedy it with simple apologies and time.  There may not be enough time.  Life is so short, I tell myself, as I punch holes into everything I've worked so hard to create.  Love is nurtured and in kind nurtures back.  I've forgotten how to nurture.  I've forgotten how to support.  There's only me now, suffocating on my own self-indignation and pity.  I've done this.  I'm sorry.  It couldn't have been you.  You're new.  Fresh.  Open.  I promised myself I wouldn't hurt you.  I promised myself I wouldn't bring you down.  I promised you I wouldn't hold you back and if there ever came a day where I did, I would let you go.  Well that day is here and I brought it forth and now I'm frozen by my love for you.  I am a selfish waif of despair.  How did I get us here?  Slowly, softly...then all at once the pieces fall.  I was a jar on a precarious shelf and now just the sound of me breaking apart is all that lingers.  The pieces were always there but now the whole room can see them in vivid color and I am quietly studied, judged, and labelled.  No more hiding in plain sight on my unstable shelf.  I'm just there alone.  Again.  

When the Hurt has Hurt

What do you do when you see yourself in another person and you hate them and not yourself for it?  Why is the first response blame?  Weak people find solace in blame for it explains away the chaos that we reside in.  I feel chaotic most of the time.  I am a liar and a thief.  I am a taker of time and producer of nothing.  I feel low some days and don't know why.  Some days I lose myself to my inability to be honest with myself.  The ego won't allow me to take responsibility.  It just won't.  There is a very deep part of me that just wants it all out there.  Every wretched piece to be judged and torn apart by a grouping of people I love the most.  There wouldn't be any coming back from that and it would be glorious.  No resets, no do-overs.  Just unfiltered reality and then silence.  What would one have to say after that?  There would be blissful, searing pain and then nothing.  It wouldn't be required of me to fix anything or adapt or change or grow.  I would just be done.  Done trying.  Done feigning effort.  Done.

It's exhausting complaining about everything.  I'm so dreadfully tired of there nothing being wrong.  Other people can only take so much you know.  All people have their limits and I certainly do my damnedest to have them reach the pinnacle of what it means to be fatigued.  Hardly any effort at all on my part, really.  It's become so natural, me being a crazy person, that I don't even notice it happening anymore.  Others have to inform me of the fact by tears, or emitting anger, frustration or just bolting altogether...for fuck that crazy bitch.  I get it.  I really do.  I've forced a hand more than a time or two.  You asked me if I've ever been here before.  I live here, hunny.  I live here.

Dear Millennials,

Fuck You.

You truly are the worst generation.  I know every generation thinks that they are elite in their hatred for every other generation in existence...well I'm elite in hating my own.  Unfortunately I was born on the cusp of being apart of this ridiculous self-interested, wasteful bunch of entitled apathetic suck-faces.  You really are.  Suck-Faces to the ninth degree.  I have never been privy to such a useless bunch of assholes.  Seriously all of you may suck the proverbial dick.

I have never been cancelled on, ignored, forgotten about, or left behind by more millennials than any other grouping of people...ever.  I have made plans with these canker blossoms(thank you Shakespeare), only to be texted moments before the meet-up...'Um, I'm like totally caught up right now...rain check?'  A mere ten years ago, if you broke plans it's because you had something unavoidable happen like a flat tire or death.  Yeah, you had to die back in the day if you didn't meet up for coffee.  That's the way shit use to go down.  Now?  We have texting.  Instagram.  Twitter.  I can see your fucking picture on Facebook with you shaking hands with a local celebrity at the mall at the same time you were suppose to meet me for a beer you fucking fuck.  Most of the time I am not even allotted the courtesy of a 'can't make it' message.  Normally there's just nothing.  No communication at all.  Have we gotten so very lazy that even a text is too dreadfully time consuming?  Gross.

I like making plans.  It helps my brain and gives me something to look forward to.  Is our collective attention span so slight that this is no longer possible?  Do we scramble about attempting importance on our pocket computers, meanwhile skirting over the fact that we hate each other and ourselves.  I feel bad when I bail on someone.  Even worse when I space and miss an opportunity with friends or family altogether.  If something has seriously come up and you can't make it...cool.  Communicate then have a make up date in which the beers be on you.  We're all busy suck-face...your shit is no more important than mine.  Waiting is a fucking disease and I don't appreciate feeling like my time means somehow less because you were raised to only feed your selfish concerns.  Grow up or you'll be all alone in the growing old.