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Some call it love and some call it sex.
opposites.
Call it what you want, but with one touch and you’re gone, so call in sick.
Human politics, from whispered hushes and distant crushes.
Mental fits breakin’ pencil tips and
inkin’ brushes.
Simple rushes.
God makes man and this is the devil's finishing touches.
- Butterfly Effect -
I never enjoy teen angst. It's overrated, cliched,
and it depresses me.
I feel like the world is against me, that I am constantly ignored and left out, that I don't deserve this and that. It feels like I'm the only one in this world who ever thinks about me because others are caught up in their own world, in their own circle of life. Included or not, I don't feel like I am.
The awkward turtle that I am screams out to people,
hey, look at me, ask me how I feel.
But people don't, they never do, so why do I do it anyway?
So I shut up, I don't tell, I never tell, because I'm egoistical like that. And probably embarrassed for this foolish phase that I'm going through.
I feel pathetic for it. I feel queasy because every time this occurs to me, my heart clenches and I feel like dying. Die, I tell myself, die, no one would notice.
But it comforts me that I realize how untrue that last statement is. It gives me a small ease of mind that I still have my head on while I suffer this phase of mine. That I will eventually get out of.
For now, I'll be depressed and crying
and probably be giving the finger to everyone.
♥ 4:58 PM
