»I am not okay, but i will be fine
Thursday, December 23, 2010
We're all walking around with these glossy eyes. "I'm just tired," we say. But you know what? It's Bullshit. Yes, we are tired, but it's not all from lack of sleep. We are tired of waking up with nothing to look forward to, tired of going to bed exhausted after doing a million things we find no enjoyment in doing. We're tired of this void, this emptiness that looms over us even though our days are packed. We're tired of the loneliness that presses down on us even though we're surrounded by dozens of people. So why can't we just say it? Humans are so afraid to look into each other's eyes and say "I am unhappy, I am broken, I am a failure, I am about to give up, I am hopeless and fallible." We've been conditioned to associate pain with weakness, sadness with coldness, loneliness with unworthiness, difference with disease, as if these feelings are contagious, as if ambivalence is something not to be felt but to be feared. Well, I say screw all of that. Screw forced smiles and polite handshakes and I'm fine, thank yous. Screw the fear of crying in a public place, screw the fake chipper voice, screw the lies we spit out to cover up our problems. We are humans. We are meant to feel. To feel everything and to feel it all openly. We are not metal- we are flesh and bone. Our boiled blood courses through our cold, clammy hands. We are intricate and beautiful and we should never hide our human parts, because if we do, then what's left to show?
It breaks my heart that the first question we ask when we meet a person is what they do for a living. Why are we so defined by our jobs? Nobody seems to be interested in the important things, like the fact thay my favorite color is light pink, that I would love to dance in the rain, that New Year is my favourite time of the year, and that I believe in magic. Ask me instead what I daydream about, and what my favourite book or movie is. These, after ll are the things that matter.
It breaks my heart that the first question we ask when we meet a person is what they do for a living. Why are we so defined by our jobs? Nobody seems to be interested in the important things, like the fact thay my favorite color is light pink, that I would love to dance in the rain, that New Year is my favourite time of the year, and that I believe in magic. Ask me instead what I daydream about, and what my favourite book or movie is. These, after ll are the things that matter.
words spilled @ 1:43 AM /
leave goosebumps here ⋄
