pretty people
who know it; and make you want to look at them
see me! their pretty eyes shout. watch my eyelashes flutter; admire my smooth skin.
well i refuse; i turn the other way. don’t lure me in with your symmetry and proportions.
i resist; instead i look at those
who don’t rely on their beauty
to bring people near them (to flock like bees to a pretty flower)
why do we always need to find new and different ways to express ourselves? why do trends come and go, why are people always looking for something else?
it’s because the purpose of expressing yourself is to express yourself. and one day you’ll find a great way to do it. a certain style of clothing, maybe, or a certain doodle you sketch on the cover of all your school binders. it makes you happy to look at, because it came from the heart, and thus it makes others happy to look at. it makes them so happy to look at that they will copy that style of expression, and so will you, you will copy your own style of expression. but then, the purpose of that expression will not primarily be to express yourself anymore, the purpose will instead be to seem a certain way, to fit in, maybe, to feel better about yourself.
but the question is, what is the point of expressing yourself if the primary purpose is not to express yourself? thus you turn to something new, you must now find a new outlet, and then the whole cycle repeats itself.
maybe
the thing about outgoing people who seem to get along with everyone is that you really don’t know how they feel about you. they may tell you they’re so happy to see you all the time but in all reality a part of you knows that they may very well hate you and talk about you when you leave and roll their eyes at your back but be perfectly comfortable with acting nice and bubbly to your face. i mean, i understand that.
this was yesterday’s post:
one day until graduation! two? i don’t know, the concept of the countdown doesn’t mean much to me. just the fact that it’s coming down like a crashing wave before i’ve had time to take a deep breath. it’s not something i can avoid, swim away from, it’s something that i’ve yet to prepare for. but i’m distracted by things from left and right and can’t seem to grasp it.
one day until graduation! or two? and instead of it seeming like a significant moment for me, i’m worried about what dress i’m going to wear under my robe. if my heels are too high for me to walk comfortably around in. you know when i was younger i’d tell myself, when i graduate, i’m totally gonna ______. or, when i’m older, i’m gonna be like ______, i’m never going to ______, i’m going to always tell people ______. and i’d feel so strongly about it but now that’s all i remember, me feeling strongly about something but i don’t quite remember what. and now it’s really happening and i’m so old but i still feel like plain, childish little me. i still don’t know if what i do is right or wrong half the time and now i have to march across some stage and get a diploma for Pete’s sake and shake a bunch of adults’ hands like it’s some rite of passage for entering into their more adult and mature world but here i am worrying about what dress i’m going to wear and if i’ll trip in my heels. i’m thinking about how awkward it will be when they feel my sweaty palms and want to wipe it off on their pants.
my eyelids are closing
i don’t know why i’m not in bed
feel a little sad, a little weird, a little nostalgic, a little.
i feel a little.
so i’m graduating tomorrow.
going to write myself a letter to be opened in ten years. i need to open my time capsule from third grade tomorrow. always thought the day would never come.
should i write my letter now or tomorrow? now is tired and hurried, tomorrow is a little risky. i hope i naturally wake up again, it was nice having extra time in the morning.
please talk to me, i feel strange.
i am feeling quite strange
waking up every morning is an accomplishment; the human race as a whole performs miracles every morning at sunrise as they get themselves out of bed and throw themselves into the whirlwind of daily life, the hurricane that is society. it is no ordinary feat, no,
/
to wake up every morning is not a right; it is a privilege, one should do it without complaining, do it easily and graciously, with prayers of thanks to see the sun rise one more day. no whining about having to face another day, instead be thankful that you got to open your eyes.
When I see myself from his eyes, I must say that I am disgusted by myself to a whole new level. And that image just repulses me.. Just I’m always screwing up, I’m more confident than I should ever be, I really don’t like the person I am.
In ninth grade I was having a hard time and there were these three girls who I felt were really ruining my life and it was a lot of pressure and I was stressed and scared and so in my notebook/diary I drew pictures of them as three hand sewn voodoo dolls with needles sticking out of various places of their bodies.. That seems so weird to me now, also the fact that I ever took time to draw anything and express rather than just religiously record.. I was more artistic back then, but maybe I’m more poetic now. I only ever told one person that and he just gave me a weird look but I don’t think he judged me because of that or ever used that against me in speaking or thinking.
