Nem azt mondom, hogy fáj, mert nem. Nem esik rosszul. Nem érdekel. De azt hiszem, valami mégis felkavaródott bennem, amit oly' rég nyomtam el magamban.
Végtére is, azt csinál, amit akar. Szabad ember, és én már tényleg rég túl léptem ezen a dolgon.
Csak az bánt, hogy mindig mindenkinek összejön, engem kivéve. Mindenki boldog, mindenki elvan, nekem pedig mi jut? Semmi.
Olyan, mintha egy sötét lejtőn csúsznék lefelé, ahol az egyetlen világosság a barátaim öröme lenne. Örülök neki, és jó látni, mégis ott van a kis hang a fejemben, az irigység hangja, miszerint én sosem fogom ugyanezt átélni. Jó, hogy nekik jó, de nekem mégsem az. Önzőség ez tán? Lehet. Én vagyok a legrosszabb ember a földön.
Mindenki sikeres, mindenki szerelmes, mindenki tök jól néz ki, és mintha én lennék az egyes egyedüli, aki egyiket sem birtokolja. Képtelen vagyok bármit felmutatni, hogy igen: ez vagyok én. Semmi nem okoz örömet.
És erősnek mondom magam, mert sosem sajnáltattam magam, sosem kértem senkitől, hogy foglalkozzon velem, vagy sajnáljon. Mindig is túl láttam az érdekeimen, és próbáltam olyan tanácsot adni, ami mások javára válik, figyelmen kívül hagyva, hogy ez talán nekem pokolian fáj. Nap mint nap ápolgatom mások lelkét, foglalkozom a kis életükkel, és mindig ott vagyok, ha szükség van rám. Sosem törődöm vele, hogy mennyire rossz, ha olyan témában kérik a tanácsomat, ami érzékenyen érint. Szeretném, ha nem érdekelne. Ha nem fájna. Szeretnék önzetlenül örülni, de képtelen vagyok rá, és gyűlölöm magam ezért.
Normális ez? Normális, hogy nekem nem sikerül semmi? Pozitív vagyok, s rendes esetben azt mondanám (másoknak biztos), hogy igen, normális, biztos valami nagy dologra vagy hivatott, valami várat magára, mindennek oka van...
De magammal szemben hasznosítani a világot megváltó gondolataimat, nem olyan egyszerű. És ilyenkor döbbenek rá, micsoda közhelyeket mondok, milyen üres és semmitmondó szpícseket tartok az embereknek. Nem is csoda, ha nem hallgatnak rám. Pedig én tényleg komolyan gondolom, és tudom is, hogy igazam van, de ha valaki a padlón van, nem ezek a szavak fogják felszedni onnan. Tehát ér valamit az, hogy annyi ember lelki szemetesládája vagyok? Számít egyáltalán bármit is, amit mondok?
Tudom, hogy nem kéne ezt éreznem. Hogy nem kéne fájjon, és hogy minden erőmet összeszedve, kényszerű mosollyal is, de a helyes dolgot kell tennem. Erről szól az egész létem, de azt hiszem, megszoktam már.
Egyedül halok meg, nagy ügy.
Azt se tudom, ezt miért írtam le...
2011. december 17., szombat
2011. december 1., csütörtök
I have some sins to confess
Let's imagine that: you are pretty, you are smart, you have a lot of friends. You've got everything you ever wanted, you've got the most expensive stuffs, you've got a lot of money, fame and all the pleasures. You were envied, and everybody wanted to be just like you.
You got it? Great.
And now imagine that: from the moment you born, you lived in a burning hell. You just started to speak and walk when you lost the first person of your life, and from that day you had to be strong. You grew up on your own and you always had to hide your feelings. Nobody knew, nobody understood. You were the only girl in the family, and these people always expected you to be the best. You had to be a perfect student, a perfect kid. You were good at it, but not enough. Enough. This is the keyword of my post.
No matter what have you done, that wasn't good enough. Ever. You got a B? Why haven't you got an A?! You had black hair and brown eyes? Pretty, but why don't you have blonde hair and blue eyes? Pretty, talented, smart, but that girl is beautiful, more talented, and clever...
You gave your life into that boy's hand? Good, but you are still hysterical and capricious which is can't be stood. You won't be good enough for anyone.
So you putted this emotionless mask on to yourself. You begin to act like you were made of ice and nobody can hurt you. You pushed people to floor with just a few words, and you didn't care of anyone. But is that true?
You wanted to be alone, but you hated it also. While you were alone you could act like you really are. You could cry and shout your soul out, nobody heared. You didn't have to afraid of getting hurt. But while you were alone the thoughts are just came to your mind. You had to think about your life and behaviour, and you hated that little voice: "you don't have to do this, you are bad, doesn't matter what are you doing..."
If anyone got close to you, you pushed them away. You were intolerable and freak, you were so careless because you were too scared to let anyone in. You didn't want anyone to know your real personality, your life and your real feelings. Because your friends thought that your are perfectly okay, your life is absolutely correct, and you don't have to worry about a thing.
Nodoby knew, but you were starving for love. While you ran into the bathroom and opened the sink to nobody hear you are cryin', you had enough time to think. You just wanted someone who don't expect more than you can give and who would never leave. Because your life started with leaving, and everybody always left you. You just wanted someone who can accept who you really are. Who knows everything about you and still loves you.
It wasn't a big wish, it really wasn't. You had everything except this. This was the only thing you ever wanted, and couldn't have it. And it killed you.
So, because you starved for love, you made out with a lot of guys. You were almost in everything and soon everybody knew: hey, this is the girl you can play with, and never has a bad word for it!
You felt so... used. You felt, but this was the only thing you had. While you were under someone, you felt loved. Uhm, that sounds really bad.
So all you wanted is love. Sometimes you were as desperate to do stupid things. You cutted yourself, you did drugs, you drank too much, you smoked, you took pills in.
But is that helped? Is that made you feel better?
Of course not.
So one day you decided to stop. You drop that blade off, you sprayed your drugs. You looked in the mirror to your white, sad face and said to yourself: why am I doing this? I have some problems, but who hasn't? I have friends who just want to love me, so this is the time to let them. I'm not an african orphan, I have life, and I have everything what others just dreaming of. I have some bad time, but I must continue because the world won't stop for me. I'm wasting my time with being so sad and desperate. Everything has a reason and I have to be strong enough to make it through.
So on that day you tucked up your sleeve and showed the world: yes, I've been weak, but now I know what I have to do.
See your blood running doesn't help you to get a happy life.
You had a hard childhood, so what? The show must go on, and this is the point. Maybe you won't be good enough to everybody. You have to wait for the one you are good enough for. And then, you will be happy. But until it happens you don't have to destroy yourself, because it will getting worst.
So, everybody. I know people like judging by look, and I know that sometimes someone could look like a total bitch. But now you know the story of that girl who often looks, and the next time you'd like to say that she is a little rich, daddy's girl think about it: that girl's life is so far from perfect! And she's still here.
You got it? Great.
And now imagine that: from the moment you born, you lived in a burning hell. You just started to speak and walk when you lost the first person of your life, and from that day you had to be strong. You grew up on your own and you always had to hide your feelings. Nobody knew, nobody understood. You were the only girl in the family, and these people always expected you to be the best. You had to be a perfect student, a perfect kid. You were good at it, but not enough. Enough. This is the keyword of my post.
No matter what have you done, that wasn't good enough. Ever. You got a B? Why haven't you got an A?! You had black hair and brown eyes? Pretty, but why don't you have blonde hair and blue eyes? Pretty, talented, smart, but that girl is beautiful, more talented, and clever...
You gave your life into that boy's hand? Good, but you are still hysterical and capricious which is can't be stood. You won't be good enough for anyone.
So you putted this emotionless mask on to yourself. You begin to act like you were made of ice and nobody can hurt you. You pushed people to floor with just a few words, and you didn't care of anyone. But is that true?
You wanted to be alone, but you hated it also. While you were alone you could act like you really are. You could cry and shout your soul out, nobody heared. You didn't have to afraid of getting hurt. But while you were alone the thoughts are just came to your mind. You had to think about your life and behaviour, and you hated that little voice: "you don't have to do this, you are bad, doesn't matter what are you doing..."
If anyone got close to you, you pushed them away. You were intolerable and freak, you were so careless because you were too scared to let anyone in. You didn't want anyone to know your real personality, your life and your real feelings. Because your friends thought that your are perfectly okay, your life is absolutely correct, and you don't have to worry about a thing.
Nodoby knew, but you were starving for love. While you ran into the bathroom and opened the sink to nobody hear you are cryin', you had enough time to think. You just wanted someone who don't expect more than you can give and who would never leave. Because your life started with leaving, and everybody always left you. You just wanted someone who can accept who you really are. Who knows everything about you and still loves you.
It wasn't a big wish, it really wasn't. You had everything except this. This was the only thing you ever wanted, and couldn't have it. And it killed you.
So, because you starved for love, you made out with a lot of guys. You were almost in everything and soon everybody knew: hey, this is the girl you can play with, and never has a bad word for it!
You felt so... used. You felt, but this was the only thing you had. While you were under someone, you felt loved. Uhm, that sounds really bad.
So all you wanted is love. Sometimes you were as desperate to do stupid things. You cutted yourself, you did drugs, you drank too much, you smoked, you took pills in.
But is that helped? Is that made you feel better?
Of course not.
So one day you decided to stop. You drop that blade off, you sprayed your drugs. You looked in the mirror to your white, sad face and said to yourself: why am I doing this? I have some problems, but who hasn't? I have friends who just want to love me, so this is the time to let them. I'm not an african orphan, I have life, and I have everything what others just dreaming of. I have some bad time, but I must continue because the world won't stop for me. I'm wasting my time with being so sad and desperate. Everything has a reason and I have to be strong enough to make it through.
So on that day you tucked up your sleeve and showed the world: yes, I've been weak, but now I know what I have to do.
See your blood running doesn't help you to get a happy life.
You had a hard childhood, so what? The show must go on, and this is the point. Maybe you won't be good enough to everybody. You have to wait for the one you are good enough for. And then, you will be happy. But until it happens you don't have to destroy yourself, because it will getting worst.
So, everybody. I know people like judging by look, and I know that sometimes someone could look like a total bitch. But now you know the story of that girl who often looks, and the next time you'd like to say that she is a little rich, daddy's girl think about it: that girl's life is so far from perfect! And she's still here.
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