I lay here now, in my bed, thinking. Not quite sure whats on my mind, but then again I'm never sure about that. My mind confuses me, my thoughts drift like the oceans waves visible only for a split seconds glimpse.
What does it mean to call your self a writer but yet never have anything to write? Maybe, then I'm just not a writer, but simply a girl confused about her destiny. Then i must ask myself what exactly is my destiny? or destiny in general? sometimes i feel like I'm just here in this world wasting air, and taking up space. I make no contributions to the world, i have saved no lives, i have done nothing, but yet and still i remain. So i guess my destiny is to be here, maybe my destiny is to just, be here.. kind of like the wind, its just here, blowing invisible dreams, thrown across the world, gathering dirt and dead leaves, empty.
Maybe I'm just empty. the problem with that is i don't feel empty, but cluttered. Cluttered with shit from years ago, broken dreams and bits and pieces of my heart, here and there. my thoughts float around like the air gathering dirt, and dead leaves i don't even have use for but still seem to be attached to. I'm a cluttered soul, chaotic in a sense. but unwavering, persistent to stay in my current state of mind. Maybe because i just feel more comfortable this way. I somehow feel more secure when I'm surrounded by a load of junk. it keeps me safe in a way. It keeps my life intact. I'm held together by a decades worth of upsets, and let downs, arguments and fights negative feelings and emotions that i should have set free years ago, but still hold on to , as if they are precious, because somehow, they are all that i feel comfort in.
Somehow, they are all that makes everything feel right. but that's wrong, because they are wrong. they are always what makes things wrong. they are the reason my life feels so wrong. but i cant let them go, I'm like the bag lady in Erika Badu's song. I wont blame my condition on a boy like most people or girls do, because it has never been a boy. in fact i don't know what its ever been, its always just been. like i was born a shattered human being... salvaged goods.
2 comments:
Omg Anita u are a writer! I've always known that. You express your feelings so well with writing...and its healthy. ]idnt I feel good to write this? Its like you are sharing pieces of u with the world! :)
I'm like the Bag lady in Eryka Badu's song too! Lol
People are always questioning their reason for being. Being here on this earth when it feels like their lives are pointless and they are nothing but useless bodies taking up space. God put us all here for a reason. I doubt he wasted his time on you just for you to sit around and look pretty. You might have already saved lives and are just not aware of it. One piece of advice, just being there, visiting someone, giving someone a hug could have made a BIG difference in someone's life. You'll never know. Just understand that you are important to someone, somewhere. You have a beautiful mind... realize it.
You are more than you perceive yourself to be.
-SydniMichael
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