Embers In My Eyes

"I am a batshit genius scientist prophet goddess and I will be free."

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I went for a walk tonight. I needed to clear my head.

There’s something about yellow streetlights diffusing across wet pavement, and the cold humidity of fall and spring that makes me thoughtful. Introspection is easier when I’m moving.

The problem is that part of me agrees with every bad thing anyone ever says about me. Or that people make me think about myself.

I am too vulgar. I am too sexual. I am selfish for not noticing details and forgetting people I’ve met once, in the dark, when I was already drunk. It’s rare that someone gets my full attention because I need to be able to retreat into something if the conversation goes wrong.

And sometimes, I think these things make me a bad person. In the darkest, most quiet parts of my heart, I don’t really think that I deserve to have people care about me. I deserve to feel this isolated all the time, because who would actually want to be friends with someone like me?

I do feel isolated a lot of the time, but that’s a different blog post altogether.

It’s just that I fought so long to like myself. And I fight so hard now against people telling me that I’m terrible and selfish and awful, even though it’s a joke. The issue is that it isn’t just one person, and it isn’t just occasionally.

But I can’t even be angry, because it’s not intentional.

It’s kind of like water. A single drop on a stone won’t affect or move the stone in any way. But a constant drip onto the same spot will eventually wear a hole right through rock. The water doesn’t mean to do it, it just is. It just exists. And they just are.

I bring this on myself, I know. I could be quiet, keep my jokes to myself, never make another innuendo, only ever be pleasant and accomodating. I could be sweet and kind and nice. But I’m just not. I can’t do it.

And then I end up as this person with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Sometimes I feel like nobody here sees anything good in me. Like they just keep me around for the entertainment value of making me angry. It seems that way sometimes anyway.

If that’s the case, I don’t know why anyone bothers. Logically based on the fact that people here sometimes do bother, I’m wrong. Which, I mean, then I also get to add whiny, needy, and paranoid to the list of reasons why people don’t actually like me.

Either way though, I don’t have any evidence to that aside from that people do still talk to me. But other people do this manners thing that means they continue to talk to and hang out with people they actively dislike in the name of like… civility I guess. I don’t understand why people do that. Everyone suffers.

I just need to go home again. I don’t know why I trust the people back home more than the people here to be honest with me, about whether they actually like me as a person or not. I don’t know why this town makes me crazy.

But either way, I have to fight. I fight them about the things they say, or make me think, that make me worthless. Even though I kind of agree with them. Especially because I kind of agree with them. I end up fighting myself.

But sometimes, I am just too tired to fight anymore. There’s no point really, the water is just going to keep falling.

I guess it doesn’t matter, because nothing is going to change.

So I went for a walk in the rain, to clear my head, and to cry in peace for all the things that I lack, that I never even wanted, that I’ll never be.

Filed under feelings me ineedtogohome

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welcome-to-sunnydale:

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