The Gift

[Poets]

2001-02-17 ~*~ "Fuck You, You Damn Hippies"


Sometimes I feel no one really understands how I feel. Have you ever had so much passion inside of you that you were literally shaking with it. Felt the energy of life with such a fire, you knew no amount of water could ever put it out? Have you?


Cause I have. The reason why it's so difficult for me to find joy and talent in my words is that so often, I'm running on near burn out. I can't sustain the energy and force I have inside of me for very long. I just can't. Lately, I've been torn between two emotions, the yeah yeah yesssssssssss!!!!! ALRIGHT!!!!! feeling, and the feeling I get when I'm tired.


Hopeless. Discouraged. Hurting. Real. There are these moments when I don't feel real. Where I don't feel defined by human standards of living, where no one can reach me, or match the level of my greatness or genuis. Yes, there are moments when I feel I'm better then everyone else. Surprised? Most folks are. Cause I'm mostly a selfless person who gives to others and takes no credit or compliments for myself.


But the truth is, sometimes I feel I'm just so much better then everyone else. And their arrogance, and stupidity I've little tolerance of patience for. And then there are other times. The primary amounts of my time. Where I feel like a worthless whore who can only hope to lick the salt from those whome would abuse me. Just to be close to their perfection and greatness.


A whore without the sex. Who'd of thought? Half the time, the way I talk in here is laughable. I talk like I'm somehow so much more important then other people. I wouldn't talk like that if on some level I didn't feel like I was. This feeling seems to be so much at odds with the feeling I get all too often. A feeling like I don't meassure up.


I work hard. Too damn hard. I focus my energies on learning new things. People tell me I'm creative and I shrug that thought off as though it's nothing. For me, it's not creativity, it's desire. I want to be better then this. I want to be better then I am. I want to be desired for my brain, cause I sure the hell know that I wont be desired for my body. At least not the way other girls are.


I'm cute. I'm sexy. I'm cool. But I'm just me. And I never stop being me. And sometimes, being me, isn't always an attractive thing. I've oftened said I hated barbie dolls. Truth is, I could never be a barbie doll. I don't have the self control to act like that much of an idiot. I don't have the desire to waste my time painting my face when I could be painting my soul.


I've a hunger on my tongue that's never quenched. I don't want to be like my mother. I refuse to get knocked up by the first idiot boy who says he loves me at age 17, and ever after cling to some man, no matter if he's good for me, and my kids, no matter if he's good for the life I want to lead. Just cause being alone is so pitiful right?


Bullshit. Being alone doesn't suck. It only sucks if you can't talk to the voices inside of you. If you can't hold a conversation with yourself I pity you. And no, I'm not talking about imagined voices. I'm talking about being in tune with your body, and your heart and your mind, and really fucking knowing what you want.


Not just going with the first thing you think you want. At least I've the balls to say it. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, and half the time I can't tell you who I am. But I can sure as fuck tell you who I'm not. I can define myself. Can you?


Half the time I'm running on empty. Half the time I'm so damn tired I can't move. The other half the time there isn't a man or woman alive who can touch my love for myself. Touch the intensity with which I study, and strive to improve myself. There isn't a soul who could steal my thunder accept for maybe god him/herself.


And so I find myself wondering. Would you be happy with a touch of greatness. Or would you prefer to be devoid of greatness altogether. In a way, it's like coming down off a high, and I'm an addict. I'm an addict of learning. Feeling. Thinking. Breathing too loud.


Yes, I'm a rude girl alright. I'll tell you exactly what I think of you, in your neurotic, barbie doll image clinging sense of stupidity. And in the next moment, I'll wonder if maybe once I didn't want to be exactly like you.


I suppose i really don't know. Life made me who I am. Hard. Soft. Sweet. Sour. Smart. Stupid. Real. And like as not, I'm not ashamed. So the folks out there who want me to shut up. Who want me to go away. Who want me to not be as beautiful as I know how to be, can take yourselves a walk off a bridge, and freefall till you crash to the ground.


Cause I'm a woman. I'm beautiful. And my life is a gift.

[Chilimuffin]

interesting. interesting. you'll have to excuse me, I'm in the thralls of voluntary caffeine withdrawal, and not thinking coherently, but I like it. Except it ends on a fairly happy note, and I'm not sure it needs that redemption - kinda like people out here in the midwest who get all upset and then shrug and say "oh, well, ya'know, I guess it's all for the best." But maybe that makes it more real, too, since more people do that? Either way, I like this....

------------------
"Get a life - go Online!"
-Dismay

"You know I wasn't born I was spat out at a wall
And nobody even knew my name
The sun hatched me out, cradle and all
On the corner of First and Insane."
--Shawn Colvin

[Poets]

Not to burst your buble or anything, but I am from the midwest. Take from that whatcha will, I choose to take that as a compliment.