You'd Be A Work Of Art
A day of multiple posts!!
A day of sadness and regret...
A day of Elliott Smith.
I need to get batteries for my keyboard. I am annoyed that it needs batteries and wish to protest, but I also wish to learn to play several things, and I am sure the latter urge will break through my tantrum. I started a list, briefly: Interpol, Elliot Smith, The Strokes, Beirut. Perhaps I will eventually start a band, or join a band, and in doing so further prove my worth. Sometimes I miss singing. But I am conflicted in all aspects of my own beauty and talent, so I don't dare to sing aloud when not drunk anymore.
Or in the company of my former love. I suppose that was the one intimacy I allowed.
It's weird now, being so emotionally and physically distant from someone I have loved for so long. I imagine it's likely less painful for him now that there's an expectation of distance. So I keep waffling between the amount of vulnerability I should show, especially after my first big encounter with life among the crowd- a brief dance, and sweet whispers, to end up twirled away standing alone off the floor. Perhaps in this instance the issue was not in my vulnerability but in wanting things for myself. This is another issue I have been mulling over- because I wonder, so deeply, what will make me finally worth respect and love? Am I doing things that will make me impressive? Can I seduce someone into really caring through a wide knowledge of things and a bag of tricks? Is it okay to do things solely because I want to? To pursue someone? To pursue sex? That has never seemed like a legitimate option. Neither has vulnerability.
To cry is to be weak, and weakness was a huge liability growing up. I never learned to stop crying, but I did learn to lash out afterward to ensure I wasn't eaten alive. I also learned not to forgive. Now I feel I am being trained to take the same approach with men, which is fine to an extent. Not everyone can want to live in harmony and equality. Not everyone was raised to trust, and life could be quite comfortable as a skeptic. I could make hauntingly beautiful and insulting songs perfectly applicable to my two-night stands:
I started taking my medication today.
A day of sadness and regret...
A day of Elliott Smith.
I need to get batteries for my keyboard. I am annoyed that it needs batteries and wish to protest, but I also wish to learn to play several things, and I am sure the latter urge will break through my tantrum. I started a list, briefly: Interpol, Elliot Smith, The Strokes, Beirut. Perhaps I will eventually start a band, or join a band, and in doing so further prove my worth. Sometimes I miss singing. But I am conflicted in all aspects of my own beauty and talent, so I don't dare to sing aloud when not drunk anymore.
Or in the company of my former love. I suppose that was the one intimacy I allowed.
It's weird now, being so emotionally and physically distant from someone I have loved for so long. I imagine it's likely less painful for him now that there's an expectation of distance. So I keep waffling between the amount of vulnerability I should show, especially after my first big encounter with life among the crowd- a brief dance, and sweet whispers, to end up twirled away standing alone off the floor. Perhaps in this instance the issue was not in my vulnerability but in wanting things for myself. This is another issue I have been mulling over- because I wonder, so deeply, what will make me finally worth respect and love? Am I doing things that will make me impressive? Can I seduce someone into really caring through a wide knowledge of things and a bag of tricks? Is it okay to do things solely because I want to? To pursue someone? To pursue sex? That has never seemed like a legitimate option. Neither has vulnerability.
To cry is to be weak, and weakness was a huge liability growing up. I never learned to stop crying, but I did learn to lash out afterward to ensure I wasn't eaten alive. I also learned not to forgive. Now I feel I am being trained to take the same approach with men, which is fine to an extent. Not everyone can want to live in harmony and equality. Not everyone was raised to trust, and life could be quite comfortable as a skeptic. I could make hauntingly beautiful and insulting songs perfectly applicable to my two-night stands:
I started taking my medication today.
Comments
Post a Comment