I wonder why everything has to be so confusing. Why I tattoo myself for the pain of it, trying to forget everything difficult. Why I dye my hair. Why I hate to change, while I am change in person myself.
This morning I drove to work with tears streaming down my face. In my head the same things repeated themselves over and over: I hate this black fake hair that's a mess. I hate this stupid car. I hate fantisizing about wrecking it on some cliff at the side of the road, and not having the guts to do it. I hate my job, all the people here, I hate it all, how I'm unwelcome where I should be most wanted. I hate the fact that I want to get away from here, but I'm scared that what I treasure most right now might be what I'd lose in the process.
Most of all I hate myself. How I look myself in the mirror and see someone cheap looking back, and the next second hate that I'd care. I rebel towards everything, and hate that I can't be normal, look normal, be someone.
I'm so sad. I don't know why. I mourn everything that has been. I get angry, over nothing, at people who I hurt myself. I call again and again the same person, but nothing is the same anymore, everything has changed. And I think I just miss him. Just long for him. Even though maybe for the both of us it was better this way.
Even though I should be happy right now.
But I guess I was never good at doing what I should.
POET in the SOAKED GLASS JAR
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For Dust And Memories