For a moment, I wished I were normal.
That I lacked this intensity. This awkwardness.
This obscure way of seeing.
An easy girl.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Isn't that what other people want?
Christ, I look at myself through the eyes of people- who see only the words...
As though those thoughts are worth thought themselves.
Those people who think my insides must be blackened.
Who look blankly at my perculiar little whimsies...
At how funny I find mortality and darkness.
Regret has me here. Cursing my weirdness. And the way I let words...
Just spill out. As though I believed they would mean anything.
That they would be understood.
I did believe. Or,..more I hoped.
And in some manic moment I leapt.
And somehow, I floated. On this cloud that told me I had done what should be done.
My heart felt lighter for the expression...the honesty. Warm in the feeling of love.
Just in the giving of it.
But now here comes the drop, the fall.
Because here love feels like nothing at all.
And I wish to scrape out the insides of ventricles, and veins.
Flush them of their leanings toward idiocy.
Ahhh, perhaps what I need more than anything, is to change the way I look at this
To stop thinking that because love is unrequited it makes me stupid.
Foolish. That it is because of some fault in me- that I am not loved.
But it was full of possibility, beauty and hope- regardless of it's worth outside of my being.
I loved him because I wanted to love him.
" what use is love wasted?"
How can it be a waste if it was strong enough to make me courageous?
Why should worth be judged on return?
Fuck being normal.
Peculiar is awesome.
And videos of kittens make pretty much anything better.