What’s the point of having a relationship when more often than not you feel so alone. Sometimes you feel as iff you’re grabbing on to one last straw to keep it going. despite your efforts it steadily continues to fade to black. It’s so lonely and it hurts so much and you wonder what have you done in your past that might warrant this experience. The only thing warm around here lately are the tear stains. And i guess it hurts even more to know (or to feel) that the feeling isn’t mutual. I call myself facing the music when confronted with the prospect. I wall myself up and hope for the best. I hope that solace will numb my heart and that I won’t ever feel pain again.
Everything you touch turns to shit.
I want to pack my comforter in the back seat of my car and drive down to the beach. I wanna snuggle up there and go to sleep. I’m afraid to close my eyes. . I never wanted this. I don’t know how this happened. Everybody thinks they have the answers to your problems. but no one does. I don’t really feel much. . It’s just so dark here. I can’t feel myself. I can’t feel the blood coursing thru my veins. I don’t feel pain. I’m afraid of the images behind the lids. so I can’t sleep. can’t focus. can’t work. can’t run my hamsters wheel. can’t chase the cheese. can’t resume the normal routine of mediocrity. can’t go back to pretending anyone gives a shyt. coz the truth is out there. We’d like to believe that the world cares coz it’s the only thing that keeps us alive. The only thing that allows us to wake up in the morning and continue (obliviously) with all activities. But it’s bullshit and deep down inside you know it. I know it. We all know it. so why the effrontery? why hold on to some semblance of a fairy tale? what’s the point? please don’t give me that crock a shyt “i’m here for you”, “i luv you”. “if you need a friend, call me” oh and the infamous “people care” propaganda. I can’t hear you. I’m deaf to it. oh then there’s the “whatever hurt you, you can get thru it” . how the fuck do you know something hurt me? how do you know I wasn’t born this way?
It’s indescribable. I feel you slipping thru these fingers like sand.
From a personal perspective, one sometimes grows weary trying to make things happen. I’ve been presented with certain opportunities that would allow my organization to grow positively. But knowing what I know about the members therein, I lack the confidence to continue on. Knowing that one has children who can at times be so petty as to waste their long distance minutes discussing propaganda can be quite problematic and tends to leave one in a state of confusion. How does one proceed forward? asks the control freak. You simply have to operate on the preface of blind faith; which seems easy enough to do when it’s your first stab at leadership. But when it’s your second and you’ve seen this shyt happen more often than not, what is your next alternative? Throw in the towel? Give up the chase and go it alone? How do you weed out the naysayers who can’t simply be honest enough to say “Meesh, I’m not feeling our current situation and would like to leave”? Nothing is ever that easy.
I’ll admit there are some days that I feel so out of touch with my kids. Like I don’t understand them, and it bothers me. Some are just spoiled and others just dance to the beat of their own drum. I guess it bothers me even more if things are done in a manner that is sneaky and offensive to me. I mean if you are an individual with the best of intentions. What is the point of going about things in a way that’s (to the naked eye) underhanded. I try to give everybody the benefit of the doubt and often times when they do things that seem blatantly disrespectful I’ll even try to see things from their perspective. But when it’s done in such a manner as to block me out, I guess it’s unnerving. Don’t get me wrong it’s not one of those “outside looking in high school” situations. It’s the feeling you get when you’re trying to have like that “Mother- Daughter” relationship or “Father –Son” relationship with your child and they just choose to push you away. Then again maybe I’m taking this whole house parent thing too seriously, and sometimes I wonder if I should just let everybody run wild and do as they please. Sometimes I just wonder if I should just do away with the whole mission statement and spending time money effort and resources to achieve the goals of the collective (seemingly). Who said inter-house bonds were supposed to be loose-knit? if anything I thought that being a house parent meant being able to pick up where (often times) the biological parents fall off. Will I be deemed a loser for actually giving a shyt about these kids and the decisions they make? Granted some of them are of age and I can’t tell them what to do because by right it’s not my responsibility. However if they can’t go to their own biological family and they can’t come to me? Then who can they go to?
So there’s this great big black n blue mark on my Leg from Saturdays’ shenanigans. I’m not quite sure how it got there seeing as I was drunk for the better part of the day. Incredible Hulks, Bahama Mamas, Long Island ice teas, St Paul (?) a mass of swirling distant memories. I remember the room spinning and stumbling into the shower to sober up then applying an avocado mask and passing out in Meme’s hotel room on one of the beds. But I don’t quite remember how I got this blurple mark on my leg and it’s been there ever since. Needless to say I had fun. But I’m not doing any rejoicing just yet. As past experience would have it, I’ve visited had fun ate drank and was merry only to encounter ultimate disappointment within the following weeks. So I’m cautious.
I don’t know why it hurt so much. But people surprise you every day. Nobody likes to remain consistent. I know I shouldn’t be worried about the shyt but I really did care for ole girl. I jus don’t know that I like the new image. A lot of that’s been going around lately. The good’s been leaking thru cracks and crevices out of people. Their experiences change them and their perception and I always get caught in the cross-fire. I honestly wish I knew what I did to this female to have her curse me out and block me like she did. And I know I usually don’t give a shyt about things like that. But I guess I had a lot more respect and held her in higher esteem than the rest. The feeling can only be summed up by the term “Shell Shock”.
lustin after a chick simply coz she looked like a chick u used to fuk with?
She was a cock-eyed chubby cheeked version of Nas and My Ex the mean ass Aquarian. I kissed her but the attraction wasn’t there . Or maybe she just can’t kiss. I don’t really know.
I guess I’m disappointed with the hand that life has dealt. I know I’m a tad ungrateful and it could just be because I haven’t found fulfillment in life. Women can’t provide it nor money. Even though I’m trying my hand at just working hard and getting money I know that my second nature isn’t driven by Greed. So where am I to find this fulfillment? Perhaps the newly opened schedule on Friday means I should be in the back pew of somebody’s church praying for an entrance ramp on the highway to heaven. It’s like I’ve strayed so far that I don’t even know how to get back to where I once was. I’m getting colder n colder n cold from having the world on my shoulders. It’s times like this when I miss Tamica. But I remember how snide she can be and the moment is fleeting.
Lately I’ve been feeling like I want to pack up and run away. Literally disappear off the face of the earth. Run to a place where no-one knows my name. Life isn’t essentially stressful for me. It’s just that sometimes you get tired of so many people calling your name. So many people wanting something from you when all you want to do is live your life in peace. Then whenever I contemplate starting a whole new life elsewhere, I have to wonder if it’ll be a repeat of my old life. I mean that would entirely defeat the purpose of running away to begin with. I’m not attention hungry nor do I starve for the spotlight. However I possess exceptional qualities that often catapult me into the limelight. Be it amongst my peers or at my place of business, I’m always the main focus. I know these statements seem narcissistic but they’re not because at the end of the day, I’d just like to be Meshia.