i send my SOS to the world- this is my message in a bottle. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Difference Between the Truths
I'd rather forget and bury my hurt underneath a pile of things to do and places to go, but I know that won't soothe my heart any. It's that tiny voice inside of me that says: "What if they're right?" What if I am ugly? What if I am a bad friend? The combination of these things together form to make a person so far from the person I'd like to be. Because what if I am those things? And I hate it because it makes me hate myself. And when that happens, it's so hard to find the good in other people. Is it naive and stupid for this to make me wish I was in San Francisco? Not because I'd rather be away, but because I felt like I was making progress as a person there. That I was or could be all of the things that I wanted to be. That all of my mistakes were so far behind me, left and packed away in boxes, only the essentials and the better parts making their way into my car and up the 15? Because all of those things that they said about me today hurt because I always wonder if they're secretly true. I wonder if I'm ugly, mainly because I'm single. I wonder if I'm kind or a good friend because sometimes I am selfish. The little voice in my head tells me that is ridiculous. That single-ness doesn't mean anything about aesthetic, and that there are other friends who regard my friendship. But because these pinpricks of doubt seep into my skin, it's hard to keep the weight of my own heart afloat after the puncture wounds inflicted by others. Basically, it's hard to brush it off because it's hard sometimes not to believe it's true. 2:36 a.m. - Tuesday, Aug. 30, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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