The Head Less Chicken

I’ve come to realise I’m not going to find love.
But then I remind myself it’s basically just transference and counter transference.
So, meh.

You know what’s just dapper, having to travel and having an end semester paper, not having packed and no decent pair of pants and just a horrible body and face, no plan what to do, just death. Gaaaaah.

Most people are articulate in the way they emote. Unlike them, I’m a mess, I’m one two many thoughts in the same paragraph. I’m always stupider, I’m verbose, I’m not very assertive, and I’m definitely not confrontational, I’m easily hurt, I’m always on the edge, I’m not spontaneous, I despise discomfort, even if it might with the price of security, I make references only I understand, I’ve achieved very little for a sense of pride and I can never decide whether I love or hate myself. I always seem to be surrounded by people who know what’s going on while they ridicule my absolute choice of oblivion that to most people is my brain, I can’t even succeed at social media. 

I’ll probably never be independent, I’ll probably marry a guy who treats me like shit, because I fall for every guy who does, I can’t even read anymore. My thoughts are so complex because I shift from blaming myself for everything to nothing and still rationalising why I love people who treat me like dirt. I want to know why I can’t be glad about my mom and I don’t know why I can’t forgive my dad, I don’t know why I can’t forgive that girl in 9th grade for telling my crush I liked him. 

I don’t know who I’ll ever trust because it’s been broken for too much to try, I don’t know why I’m not pretty or smart or talented, I want to let go but I’m trying too hard, and the trying this hard makes the grip stronger if anything.

I don’t know why I’m jealous of a friendship I never wanted with people who are full of themselves, and that is the final opinion, I want to be who I want to be without that 1000 L dosage of guilt that comes packed in tiny bottles and attacks your heart with blood pressure and alcohol. 

When I’m happy it’s too much, when I’m sad it’s too less, I need to let go, I need to be zen, but it seems too far, too fucking far. I hate you, you I don’t even know who I’m talking to because that you is every you I’ve ever met. 

I need to breathe, I need to think, about something anything but this, oh wait, I can’t stop thinking about this and the fact that my academics, the one thing I could succeed at is failing because I’m too busy with this.

‘You have low self esteem.’ Oh you genius. You can’t save me although I secretly wish you could, but please spend a few minutes of your time in a conversation with me so I could feel slightly pleased and pretty as you tell me this for the next few hours, till you give up on this filled up vessel of bullshit and say ‘I don’t have time for this, girls like you wear me down.’ 

Ever wondered how it would be if you wear yourself down? When internally you have no sense of empathy or sympathy for anything other than your pitiful carcass of body that smells rotten through the scent of your words.

You know how difficult it gets dealing with this bullshit and still looking into the mirror and thinking no it’s okay you love yourself.

At some point I’ll have to, my mum can’t hang around forever.

But I’m not going to leave, this is not done until I’m good at something, I’m good at pointing what I’m not good at, I’m not great at it, because this list isn’t complete, I’m just tired.

Originally posted by theremina

When life wins