Buckle down for a depressing post.
Something is missing. I promise you, something is missing. The most tragic part of it all, is that I can't quite put my finger on what was once in the spot where an endless void now exists. I know exactly what you're thinking, Why not put another body part on it instead? But that's just it, it's like my kind has sort of given up. I have so much potential. With the courtesy of bragging rights, I won't deny myself the credit. But potential is useless when it isn't taken advantage of. Countless opportunities, and yet I let them all pass by me. Sometimes, without even realizing it. Ever heard of that saying that tells when one door closes another one opens? Well, I feel like all the doors have shut and locked themselves in. Leaving me either isolated inside or longing for acceptance outside. Perhaps that's what I need: acceptace. That, and a cornucopia of other qualities. Motivation. Enhusiasm. Optimism. Passion. The bare essencials of success, satisfaction, and contentment- am I wrong?
Friends. I don't have a best friend. Sure, I have frindships that I love and care for, but there isn't a single person who knows everything about me. Even though they think they might. Trust issues? Maybe. I tend not to open up, but then again I'll talk seriously to any person who happens to catch me at the right moment on facebook. Better someone who doesn't know me personally because then they won't judge too kindly or cruely. Perhaps I fear judgement? I also think it has a lot to do with my undeniable craving for perfection. I want to be flawless in every way imaginable, despite the law written in stone for years declaring the impossibility of the statement. Beauty and the brawns. What more could one want? Stupid possessions and wants and needs; they're taking over my life. But for reasons that escape me, I can't let the feeling go that somehow I'm special and that I really can be perfect. At fourteen, I can already sense that I'm only setting myself up for a long and unhappy life of disappointments and heartbreak.
Family. We don't get along. It's just an illusion that we care to avoid confrontations that will turn into ugly, sticky messes. Daddy, I am forever going to be frustrated with you, and my patience has run out. Mommy, stop what you're doing, take a look at me, and think, is your daughter a person who deserves to be everything she wants to be? It's painful to witness where things have gone and how I've changed so drastically. Tears me up inside.
But if I seem to understand my problem, then why is it such an excrutiating process to heal the metaphorical wounds? It's almost as if I am experiencing phantom pains. The sources don't exist, it's all in my head. But aren't pyschological conflicts the worst? There's no where for them to go besides bottling inside or thundering at innocen bystanders. So much so say, and yet words fail me.
In a bad mood? Maybe.
Reflecting on current emotions? Taking a deeper look into who I am? Trying to steer the unlucky course I've forged myself? Possibly.
On the right road? TBA
If anyone reads this, I appreciate thoughts. And just the idea that someone took the time to get a little insight. But overall, i am feeling slightly better. Boy, I just needed to get that out. Cheers to all for a wonderful Sunday, and hopefully I'll be more chipper when i blog next!
Current reading material: Hiroshima
Current music addiction: Ingrid Michaelson
Current movie of choice: Ramona and Beezus, Inception, Despicable Me, 500 Days of Summer
Current friend of the love award: Katherine
Current happy mood: 4 out of 10
Current productivity rate: 1 out of 10