DISCLAIMER: This is cut and paste from my real journal.
I should preface this by saying I read lots of things on my LIVEJOURNAL friends list<b> about how much people feel they are being hurt by semi-anonymous, semi-ambiguous people.</b>
Sometimes I know what's going on. Sometimes I don't.
All of them (all of you?) express it in many ways.
How often do we admit it, especially in a semi-twisted/public forum like LIVEJOURNAL, when we're the ones who hurt people?
<b>
Do we never hurt our lovers, our parents, our friends? Where is the post for that? Where is the poem about that?
</b>
Is constantly talking about ourselves as victims of misunderstanding realy putting our best foot forward?
Are we really being honest in what we choose to present of ourselves?
Maybe there's no reason to present anything but our best sides.
Like a photograph - get my good side, please.
For christ sake, SOMEONE has to be on the other end of the "depressed" emoticons, morose allusions and second person allegations.
Well, fuck it. I'm that fucking person tonight.
I have hurt people I never wanted to hurt. I am not the victim here. I am the one who has failed. I accept it. I admit it.
<b>
I declare it to the world and cold night.
</b>
However,<b> I will not be treated like I am dead, </b>and I will not accept the conclusion that everything you build with a person is a LIE because you tell theTRUTH when you feel uncomfortable with the relationship being a certain way at a certain point of time.
I know what trust is. I fucking know what trust is. I know heartbreak and I know death and it is not death when I say I can't be this way with you now to somebody, or I say my body can't be this way with you now, or I say Please, I need sleep, I work hard and I am tired and I do not have what you want me to give you right now.
This is about multiple situations <b>for the record.</b>
I give what I can. I faill when I can't win. I fight really hard for what I think is right. Really damn hard.
To the bones of my hands, to the shredding of my throat when I scream, to the end of my wits, until I can't stand any longer, until I want to stab the next customer in the eye or suffocate myself with a plastic bag.
I am trying to carve something out of nothing right now. It is difficult. I cannot always be there for everything. I am broke. I am overworked. <b> I am hungry often.</b>I am paying my dues so I can actually grab some of my dreams while I'm still young. It takes a lot of energy. I don't always have leftovers. I will not make someone I love settle for my scraps. I am sorry, more then you know. More then you will ever allow me to be in your mind. I know how much you hurt.
<b>
You are innocent. I am not.</b>
Nothing but time and the pain you inherited by gripping onto me will change that.
I cannot say if it is meant to be changed or not.
I'll be the villain but it's time to allow some teeth to the idea that hurting people when you have no other choice can hurt like all horrible hell. That would be something honest. That would be a poem with a little grit. That would be real like building something. That would be rought like sandpaper. It might be hellish and sharp like a razor blade, the flat, loose kind that scare me.
After I was finally off the phone,<b> Mandie and her friend were trying to pry a cork out of the wine with a steak knife.</b> They tried nails, screwing a screw in and then diggiing it out with pliars. I tried using my keys.
<b>
Just because something doesn't work at a particular moment, doesn't mean it never will. It doesn't mean you're not trying very, very hard to do what must be done. Sometimes you just can't.</b>
Perhaps some nights, you don't have the right tool.
You must understand that, and accept that<b> it will be OK if it is not to be a night to drink of that which you desire.
The poison grows sweeter with age, anyhow. Or so they tell me.
</b>
LYRICS OF THE NIGHT:
Bring Back the Sun
by Our Lady Peace
A little white house
Its everything we've
dreamed about
I wanted you to know
Im hanging up my ego
We shouldn't have to fight
Or worry about the bills tonight
I wanted you to know
I want to be your shadow
The mystery's gone
So bring back the sun
Well bury this hate
And build it with love
<font size=4>
The grass wasn't greener
I found
I wanted you to know
I dug you up a rainbow
I know, I know I failed you
I hope, I hope we get to
Sunny days again
</font size>
I should preface this by saying I read lots of things on my LIVEJOURNAL friends list<b> about how much people feel they are being hurt by semi-anonymous, semi-ambiguous people.</b>
Sometimes I know what's going on. Sometimes I don't.
All of them (all of you?) express it in many ways.
How often do we admit it, especially in a semi-twisted/public forum like LIVEJOURNAL, when we're the ones who hurt people?
<b>
Do we never hurt our lovers, our parents, our friends? Where is the post for that? Where is the poem about that?
</b>
Is constantly talking about ourselves as victims of misunderstanding realy putting our best foot forward?
Are we really being honest in what we choose to present of ourselves?
Maybe there's no reason to present anything but our best sides.
Like a photograph - get my good side, please.
For christ sake, SOMEONE has to be on the other end of the "depressed" emoticons, morose allusions and second person allegations.
Well, fuck it. I'm that fucking person tonight.
I have hurt people I never wanted to hurt. I am not the victim here. I am the one who has failed. I accept it. I admit it.
<b>
I declare it to the world and cold night.
</b>
However,<b> I will not be treated like I am dead, </b>and I will not accept the conclusion that everything you build with a person is a LIE because you tell theTRUTH when you feel uncomfortable with the relationship being a certain way at a certain point of time.
I know what trust is. I fucking know what trust is. I know heartbreak and I know death and it is not death when I say I can't be this way with you now to somebody, or I say my body can't be this way with you now, or I say Please, I need sleep, I work hard and I am tired and I do not have what you want me to give you right now.
This is about multiple situations <b>for the record.</b>
I give what I can. I faill when I can't win. I fight really hard for what I think is right. Really damn hard.
To the bones of my hands, to the shredding of my throat when I scream, to the end of my wits, until I can't stand any longer, until I want to stab the next customer in the eye or suffocate myself with a plastic bag.
I am trying to carve something out of nothing right now. It is difficult. I cannot always be there for everything. I am broke. I am overworked. <b> I am hungry often.</b>I am paying my dues so I can actually grab some of my dreams while I'm still young. It takes a lot of energy. I don't always have leftovers. I will not make someone I love settle for my scraps. I am sorry, more then you know. More then you will ever allow me to be in your mind. I know how much you hurt.
<b>
You are innocent. I am not.</b>
Nothing but time and the pain you inherited by gripping onto me will change that.
I cannot say if it is meant to be changed or not.
I'll be the villain but it's time to allow some teeth to the idea that hurting people when you have no other choice can hurt like all horrible hell. That would be something honest. That would be a poem with a little grit. That would be real like building something. That would be rought like sandpaper. It might be hellish and sharp like a razor blade, the flat, loose kind that scare me.
After I was finally off the phone,<b> Mandie and her friend were trying to pry a cork out of the wine with a steak knife.</b> They tried nails, screwing a screw in and then diggiing it out with pliars. I tried using my keys.
<b>
Just because something doesn't work at a particular moment, doesn't mean it never will. It doesn't mean you're not trying very, very hard to do what must be done. Sometimes you just can't.</b>
Perhaps some nights, you don't have the right tool.
You must understand that, and accept that<b> it will be OK if it is not to be a night to drink of that which you desire.
The poison grows sweeter with age, anyhow. Or so they tell me.
</b>
LYRICS OF THE NIGHT:
Bring Back the Sun
by Our Lady Peace
A little white house
Its everything we've
dreamed about
I wanted you to know
Im hanging up my ego
We shouldn't have to fight
Or worry about the bills tonight
I wanted you to know
I want to be your shadow
The mystery's gone
So bring back the sun
Well bury this hate
And build it with love
<font size=4>
The grass wasn't greener
I found
I wanted you to know
I dug you up a rainbow
I know, I know I failed you
I hope, I hope we get to
Sunny days again
</font size>