I am very angry. When you try to share a special part of your life with people and then they throw it back in your face, the only way you can truly react is with indignant and frustration. Tonight was a special night for me... I finally honestly learned that I was worth something more than the very last scraps at the bottom of the barrel.
I felt special before, but never inclined to truly believe until tonight.
Beliefs before have been fleeting and full of doubt-- questions of what the benefit would be... and now I know there is nothing to be taken. Nothing that could possibly be of profit or benefit, and yet-- there it is. There has never been a more concrete reason until tonight.
Where I felt monotonous, I was told I wasn't, where I felt worthless, I was made to feel I wasn't, where I felt weak, it was pointed out that there were weaker. Where there was acceptance, it was replaced by annoyance, and the announcement that it wasn't fair. Where deaf ears resided before, someone who could hear finally came forth.
I am blessed. As hard as it is for me to believe people actually care-- they do. They come out of the woodwork to wrap their strong arms around me and convince me that everything might be ok. They convince me that I don't need to sell myself [short] in order to get along.
It is amazing to me the amount of compassion in this seemingly cold world. When someone's words mean something to you-- you cannot just tell them. It seems as trite as saying thank-you because in this world of skepticism no one even believes a thank-you anymore. Everything is overdone.
Tonight I discussed becoming a prostitute as my main source of income since I am in so much debt and because I need rent covered for September. Most of them make rent with two jobs a day, and money to spare, and I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. Apparently, it is, and that opened my eyes. I didn't think it would be protested, and when it was, I was caught by surprise. I thought everyone would regard it as just something I did to get by-- I was wrong. It worries people.
There has never been any time in my whole life where I have been more glad to be wrong.
sometimes life's not fair.
i correct myself.. I mean: all the time.
In ninth grade, things seemed shitty, but they did not seem hopeless. Now, they sort of do, which may explain my recent wish to be, once again, in high school. In ninth grade things weren't really bad because I was still a goody-two-shoes and my idiot 'brother' wasn't.
This is the real world. We are all carving out our names, some with more precious and lasting strokes than others. My name will be on this picnic table, my knife will be sharp, you will see my impressions long after you wonder who the hell I am.
I heard that Bjork performed at the Olympics, and she had a gossamery dress that stretched out to the lengths of the field and that it took up all the room it could. I would be happy if she really were the center of the world. I also never dreamed that the Olympics would include someone like Bjork because she was always 'weird' and dressed in ways that 'were completely uncalled for'. I am glad that such a soul finally got her day, even if it is a lie.
That's my gift. I make a deep impression.
What do you call an Irishman sitting on your back porch?