Please fire me. My boss told me to consult with him before I think.
my dog is getting scared of the storm so he’s hiding in the cat basket
YOU’RE NOT A CAT
YOU DON’T EVEN FIT IN...
i want to hit my head
until i can no longer
feel the pain
*by peculirarity* (written July 22, 2014)
do you ever have second-hand obsessions
like one of your friends is super obsessed with a thing so whenever you see something about it you’re like “YES THIS THING” but you’re not the one obsessed with it. they are. you know very little about this thing and yet it still excites you because it excites your friend
what am i, really?
i’m bereft of actuality, again.
what is the purpose of my being here?
I just can’t seem to fit in.
i’ve found my reflection in the
shards of shattered glass,
each one with a unique expression,
all as broken as the media
an optical illusion
just trying to fit into this frame
distorted conceptions of myself
eyes hiding glances
that reflect the deceit of me.
in trying to gather the pieces
of an identity, i found that i did
more harm than help.
littered, scattered pieces
of who i might be
slice through fingertips
when handled and arranged.
what am i that i would draw blood
from my own veins?
just flayed flesh
am i meant to be known?
named and categorized?
am i meant to be understood by anyone
if not even by myself?
or meant to wander helplessly
in search of the idea of self?
there is nothing to be gained
in knowing who i am,
only a sense of pain and frustration.
no greater purposed served
by finding substance and reality
inside this husk of skin.
so, i ask you, why do you still try?
why should i be defined?
flawsstitchedwithgoodintentions in normal.
mylifeinitalics in italics.
damn, this was really good.