Because I make it so.
Because I am dishonest.
Because I am terrified of repelling people with the truth about myself and cover it up.
Because this makes me fear I'm never genuine.
Because I'm terrified people don't like me; I'm terrified I'm like my Grandma, or Frida Kahli- I'm just a tag on people feel they have to care for else she'd drop off the edge altogether. I think people must pity me. Because what's there to like? I try things. I... I'm too uncaring about what I'm doing I can't decide I'm stupid I'm creative but not good at it, not like other people are like, Flowergirl, and like JMCD. I'm not genuine and that's not why people will like me and I hate myself and I hate being me.
So stop it you silly pitiful little girl.
Start being who you want to be, start thinking how that girl acts and says and does. Stop whining and start being happy now, stop it and shut up.
I'm wearing black and I refuse to throw anything out
Bursting to brims with ideas to shout
All I want is you to let me out and flood
Over the world with you to make my mark
A tide of pearls glowing soft in the dark
I want to make my own way without interference
Or plans that beg for common sense adherents
I can't but I can and I've lost before I start
Because my life's planned out to break all their hearts
And I think that I've discarded or been left far back
I'm too old or juvenile with jaw oh so slack
I don't commit and I'm just far too dense
Perimeter's wide so bring on the fence
I'm thinking of too many things in a state
Just waiting for terrible cares to abate.
I know what to do so why don't I?
Monday, 17 November 2008
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