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my thoughts

I can't believe that what I feel is really happening to me
Make it hurt
And point the finger at my insecurities
Well I guess I just don't understand about those complexities in your mind
And I guess I just don't understand why this world seems so unkind
Maybe just once I get what's coming to me.

**"Maybe Just Once" - Nine Inch Nails**

Thursday, November 18, 2004

It's late. I shouldn't even be writing now because I have to wake up in 6 hours to get ready for class all day tomorrow, along with taking a quiz. I don't even have anything to write in here. I just need to let my thoughts run because I feel so very alone. Yes, I'm "great" you say. You wish everyone you know could be like me. You can't possibly mean that because you know me and you know I'm not the best person I could be. I'm selfish, I hurt people, I use people, I talk too much, I talk about people behind their backs, I steal, I cheat, I lie, I cuss, I spit, I sulk, I manipulate others to get my way, I am vengeful, I hold grudges, I judge, I keep secrets, I tell secrets, I hide things, I'm stubborn, I pretend, I am lazy, I hurt myself, I want to be hurt, I procrastinate, I have no ultimate life plan, I am confused, I am hurt, I want to be a grown-up and I want you to treat me like I'm a little girl. How can you possibly want everyone to be like me? I'm not any good. I'm not any good at all. I say, do and am all kinds of horrible things. The world wouldn't function if everyone was like me. It would become a depressed anti-social mess of a blob.
Or maybe I should be glad of you saying that because that means that, despite my faults, you still think I'm a good person. You are who I want you to be and I just need to know that you enjoy me. I want you to enjoy spending time with me and doing things for me and with me and to me not because you know I enjoy them, but because you enjoy them. I don't want anything if you don't want it too. You are everything I've ever asked of you and more. You are all I've ever wanted and I would prostrate myself before you and worship if if that's what you asked of me. All I ever wanted was for you to like me. Let me kneel by your feet while you stroke my hair and call me pet names. I want to hear you say that you like me, that you enjoy me, that you want me. Maybe I'm just dumb, but I need the words for me to know if you like me or not. Gestures confuse me. You could just be nice by doing things for/to/with me. If you actually tell me you like me and are pleased by me, then I can know that I am liked by you and I please you. I want to close my eyes and hear you say the words if you mean them. I want to give you all that I am and all that I will be. And you tell me I'm "great"? "Great" is your favourite food, sport, clothing, song. "Great" is not you liking and enjoying me. I need to know what you think of me. I need to know if I've made a mistake. I need to know that I mean something to you, a little more than an often-used computer program. I want to be your most cherished posession besides your own life. I want you to WANT to spend time with me. I want you to want. I lay myself before you as an open book and I need you to do something more with me than absently flicking through the pages. I need you to read me cover to cover and close me and hold me close to you and open me again periodically for the pure enjoyment of reading me. Let me be your joy, your laughter, your happiness, your smile, your tears, your pain, your sadness, your anger. Let me be cherished by you. Let me be liked. Let me be yours. It's what I've been wanting from the start. I've opened myself up for you to take. Once, you did read my pages eagerly but, suddenly you shut the book and pushed it away claiming to have not enjoyed the pages with the abandon you displayed before. It hurt. And still I remain open before you and, occasionally, you skim through a page or two before closing the book again. I do not want to be dusty on your shelf. Read me, cherish me, adore me, respect me, value me. Posess me. Let me be yours. I want to belong to you. I need to.
JeN's mind ejaculated @ 1:52 a.m. | | permalink
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