A part of me gets sore, a part of me gets sick...
Anyone who can't accept the truth behind an opinion is a coward. No exceptions, no excuses, you're a coward.
I have very genuine feelings toward people. Whether it's love, hatred, disgust or respect; it's real. There is no bullshit in what I feel, because I feed the truth straight into my veins.
Everyone has done things they aren't proud of. But there is a line to be drawn: You either fix it, or you cover it up and hope no one finds out. You take the real kind of responsibility for your actions, or you become a lie. It's not about wearing your heart on your sleeve, it's just that some people seem to think that as long as you can keep something private, it doesn't change who you are.
Total. Bullshit.
I don't have the strength to care about people who simply "put up" with me. I don't have the patience to wait around and hope that everything's alright. I don't have the peace of mind to worry about someone who doesn't even see why they should be worried about. I don't have the endurance to pound these fucking messages into someone's head when all they read is "insanity".
I have two modes of thought: Pure nonsense and my pure, unaltered emotion. I never expect to be taken seriously, but when I get in my passionate mode, every word I say means the world to me.
I'm sick of everyone here. I'm sick of these psychological fucking circus run-arounds. I'm sick of every time someone passes over something that's important, life-changing. I'm sick of the people that live like animals, bound to their own petty lives. And I'm called a hypocrite for saying these things.
To this, I say: There's a difference between giving up, and thinking you're invincible. There's a gap between failure and stupidity. There is a very wide line between being self-absorbed and being selfish.
All this anger wears me out. It stems from caring about someone, loving that person a lot and trying to help them, but everything gets tangled. You take a moment to gather your wits, to clean up your mind enough to try to speak. But, by then, it's all in vain. By then, all I do is make that person feel like trash, as if it was a mistake to ever know me.
There was a time when she was like family... now everything's distorted....
I have very genuine feelings toward people. Whether it's love, hatred, disgust or respect; it's real. There is no bullshit in what I feel, because I feed the truth straight into my veins.
Everyone has done things they aren't proud of. But there is a line to be drawn: You either fix it, or you cover it up and hope no one finds out. You take the real kind of responsibility for your actions, or you become a lie. It's not about wearing your heart on your sleeve, it's just that some people seem to think that as long as you can keep something private, it doesn't change who you are.
Total. Bullshit.
I don't have the strength to care about people who simply "put up" with me. I don't have the patience to wait around and hope that everything's alright. I don't have the peace of mind to worry about someone who doesn't even see why they should be worried about. I don't have the endurance to pound these fucking messages into someone's head when all they read is "insanity".
I have two modes of thought: Pure nonsense and my pure, unaltered emotion. I never expect to be taken seriously, but when I get in my passionate mode, every word I say means the world to me.
I'm sick of everyone here. I'm sick of these psychological fucking circus run-arounds. I'm sick of every time someone passes over something that's important, life-changing. I'm sick of the people that live like animals, bound to their own petty lives. And I'm called a hypocrite for saying these things.
To this, I say: There's a difference between giving up, and thinking you're invincible. There's a gap between failure and stupidity. There is a very wide line between being self-absorbed and being selfish.
All this anger wears me out. It stems from caring about someone, loving that person a lot and trying to help them, but everything gets tangled. You take a moment to gather your wits, to clean up your mind enough to try to speak. But, by then, it's all in vain. By then, all I do is make that person feel like trash, as if it was a mistake to ever know me.
There was a time when she was like family... now everything's distorted....
posted by Anonymous at 8:56 PM
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