Discarded boots
The world is full of people who do not think I am significant. I don't mind it. I am after all just a number, an ant, a small man in a big world. I realise I have to impress myself on it if I want it to recognise me, and mostly, I do not want it to, and do not mind that it doesn't.But people insist on saying they care about me, then proceeding, well, not to. To treating me with the same disdain they would a number, an ant, a small man. But I am thinking, I have impressed myself on you. That's why you say you care about me. Don't say it just because you think it will please me. If it means nothing, it doesn't.
It does the opposite. It makes me intolerably sad. And I have enough intolerable sadness already.
***
Two weeks ago, I was feeling positive, energised. I felt I could change things. A lot of that had to do with feeling personally valued, loved even, by someone who means a lot to me (I should say someones, because it's not just one person who has made me feel down, but this one has hurt me the most). I felt that my positivity, reaching out, trying to make things good, had had a good outcome. I felt that a light that had more or less been extinguished in my life had been rekindled. But I have been seduced into overrating myself again (not for the first time). I have once again confused wanting for being. I want her to look at me and see gold but I am made entirely of rusted, useless iron.
I know. Get over it. Suck it up. I should resign myself to it, confirm my desperation, accept that the mermaids were not singing to me, and drown.
posted by Dr Zen @ 4:35 pm
1 Comments:
Don't be down, Zenny dear. Feel like gold, or hell, feel like iron - even rusted if you must - it is still strong and beautiful and rust can be sanded away with effort.
You are cared for you, twat. May be not the way you want, but it is still caring and it takes time and face it, time is all we have, for it to become more than what it is.
Post a Comment
<< Home