Incessant Rambling
And so it is, just when I think I have the winning poker hand in life, I end up getting beat out by the dealer. Why do I do this to myself? I don't know why I do!
I mean, parts of me just want to give up on everything and everyone and just run away to a place with sandy beaches and clear blue water, but how long after that will it be that I realize that I can't run away from everything? How long until paradise turns into something I loathe and despise? More importantly, is it worth risking?
I feel like I am being dealt funky hands in the games of chance, and the games are rigged just to keep me playing. (Paranoia?) I dunno. I sit here, drinking in an attempt to get some inspiration back, but none seems to be coming to me. I want to show the world what I have to offer, but it's like I have some stupid leash keeping me at bay. What leash you may think (what leash I may ask myself) I have no idea. I'm not scared to be different and just be me, but it's like I have to conform to other peoples ideals of what I am are. Does that make sense?
A friend asked me about different situations and if I changed when I was around different people. Sadly, the answer was yes. I feel like I do have to change depending on the company, but that's so not me. I HATE the idea of conformity yet I end up changing in the end. Hypocrite? BLAH! I don't know.
I am going to end this incessant rambling for now and pick up where I left off at a later date. All I am looking to do is be the clear crayon in the box of 96-Crayola...Is it that hard to do?
I mean, parts of me just want to give up on everything and everyone and just run away to a place with sandy beaches and clear blue water, but how long after that will it be that I realize that I can't run away from everything? How long until paradise turns into something I loathe and despise? More importantly, is it worth risking?
I feel like I am being dealt funky hands in the games of chance, and the games are rigged just to keep me playing. (Paranoia?) I dunno. I sit here, drinking in an attempt to get some inspiration back, but none seems to be coming to me. I want to show the world what I have to offer, but it's like I have some stupid leash keeping me at bay. What leash you may think (what leash I may ask myself) I have no idea. I'm not scared to be different and just be me, but it's like I have to conform to other peoples ideals of what I am are. Does that make sense?
A friend asked me about different situations and if I changed when I was around different people. Sadly, the answer was yes. I feel like I do have to change depending on the company, but that's so not me. I HATE the idea of conformity yet I end up changing in the end. Hypocrite? BLAH! I don't know.
I am going to end this incessant rambling for now and pick up where I left off at a later date. All I am looking to do is be the clear crayon in the box of 96-Crayola...Is it that hard to do?
posted by Ill-Fated Butterfly at 4:21 AM
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