THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
All my dreams are too uncomfortable to exist even inside my own head and I wake up reeling every time. I don't know how some faces come every single night, every single night, with their faces and their hands, and in three years, I never made out the details of any of theirs.
I always get to stand on the outside now, because I, for some reason, never budge like they do- Because I think that they're all weak. I'd never act on it, I'd never tell it to their faces or treat them different, because I keep trying to make things not matter but I do think it. On the inside, I do, I do. I do because I always felt the same for not taking a better way out. For always fighting everything. I always felt like a coward for doing everything that I always knew was right. I can't explain. I had to push through every single day wishing I didn't know any better- They just go. I wish I was them, and I can't stand one single word out of their mouths because they're so stupid and so shallow. Because they aren't even people and they don't care about anyone but themselves. Escapism always feels like narcissism to me. It always looks that way...
We can go to Amsterdam, and you can come and make sure we don't die...
As if that even dignifies a response. I should have hung up the phone then and there. Don't say that and expect me to look you in the eyes.
Everything always feels sad.
I don't even know how to act around people. I'm so paralyzed at the idea of getting stuck in all this. I always think the worst in the short term because I believe so strongly in the good of the long, and I have no good omens about any of this. I always think that if I found... Them, found them and then felt safe, all of this would just stop.
I wonder if that's true.
But I wonder if they even exist at all, most days.
I try to pretend that I feel fine in these social situations, you see, that I don't just want to kill myself being around people like they are, and all I think about is going to those dark, dark, dark rooms with no light in them at all, that are hot and humid on the inside and still and silent, except for the purr of the insides of the building, of all the machinery of the elevators going up and down and not thinking about anything at all.
I sometimes think that the people I am closest to are the ones about whom I know the least. I barely know them at all, I feel. And I spend such a long time questioning my own feelings on them... I have no idea what I look like to them. I never know why people are friends with me, because I never really know why I'm friends with them, except for coincidence and necessity. I don't know anything about them, and I've known them my whole life. It breaks my heart a little. It breaks my heart that I couldn't ever, ever, ever talk about anything I felt really strongly about because they wouldn't understand or it would be too awkward or maybe they don't know I feel anything at all. I don't understand any of it.
It was like when I was in England with them last year. It was so hard to explain. I've been with them since I first learned to spell my name and I've lived this seperate life that they haven't even the faintest idea of. I never talk about my family and the kind of things I see or anything like that, and I've never told them any of what Dodson was. I've never told them any of the plan or how I feel on anything.
And I see them doing exactly what I did and I can't do anything at all. I can't bring myself to. I don't even know how to be there for them, not like they'd look to me for it.
I sometimes think they only see that I'm, you know, sort of this vaguely amusing cynical word track in the background. I sometimes think they only keep me out of familiarity. I feel like I'm the same way, too. I don't know anything about them, because I know absolutely everything about them, it feels. I could order for them at any restaurant we sat down in, and I don't even know Milena's father's name. She's like me because she has a whole other country that she exists in and she's got this whole seperate set of ideals behind her. Alix, too.
I don't know what happens when their front doors closed. I don't know what happens inside their heads.
And it's all a little tragic, I think, because it never feels right. It never feels correct. I never feel quite easy in their company. In anyone's...
I don't know. I feel so terribly isolated. I've always lived my entire life inside my own head, but only recently has it become such a tremendous handicap.
You, of course, have always been different. I just. I don't know. Sort of polar opposites from how everything in the real world is, I think. I feel like I know you so well. I don't know if, had I ever been given the chane to know them, anyone, in the way that I know you- In the way where it doesn't really matter what you do or what you say out loud- Where I just love you because I know who you are on the inside, and we just talk about things within that contexts. Just get familiar with each other's heads rather than our movements through space...
I don't know how I would feel about any of them. I don't know how I would look at any of them at all.
I don't know if, were I standing next to you, would anything you did even really matter because I would understand why you did it... And how would that make everyone else look?
I've always got a headache lately. Always tired, always aching...
creative, smart, idealist, loner, attracted to sad things, disorganized, avoidant, can be overwhelmed by unpleasant feelings, prone to quitting, prone to feelings of loneliness, ambivalent of the rules, solitary, daydreams about people to maintain a sense of closeness, focus on fantasies, acts without planning, low self confidence, emotionally moody, can feel defective, prone to lateness, likes esoteric things, wounded at the core, feels shame, frequently losing things, prone to sadness, prone to dreaming about a rescuer, disorderly, observer, easily distracted, does not like crowds, can act without thinking, private, can feel uncomfortable around others, familiar with the darkside, hermit, can sabotage self, likes the rain, sometimes can't control fearful thoughts, prone to crying, prone to regret, attracted to the counter culture, can be submissive, prone to feeling discouraged, frequently second guesses self, not punctual, not always prepared, can feel victimized, prone to confusion, prone to irresponsibility, can be pessimistic