frankly;

I want to take walks alone. I want to paint again and learn everything i ever forgot about pianos. I want to extricate the negative connotation my cynical voice places on everything, I want to speak without getting the sarcasm all over everything when its dripping off my every word. i want to always remember that my life will only go exactly where i lead it, and that i am only as in control as i myself demand to be.

I want to be a person worth knowing, without knowing anyone.

people disturb me. I say that to some of my acquaintances as if i mean a certain type of person, as if i mean yeah other people, not you. You know what’s funny? I mean you too. I mean all of you. you disturb me and scare me. i don’t understand other faces and other words and other mannerisms and patterns. I guess I don’t really understand much.
what i do understand is that the things i learn about are worth knowing; most people are not.
what i do understand is that the people in books are so helplessly, shamelessly, and inevitably themselves (because they have been written that way) that everything falls into place predictably as their characters would call for.
what i don’t understand is why (real) people are so afraid of themselves. i mean i get it, you fear your humanity because it means in relation that you are imperfect. And facing yourself with no bias or denial is heartbreaking.
Realizing your real flaws and how deep they go, how ordinary those flaws make you, it’s a rough reality. It’s hard to admit that the things you criticize or disdain in others could possibly be said about you. realizing that you are just as open to ridicule as any other person, (because holy shit you are merely another person, one among many, inconsequential, maybe unnoticed, maybe and most likely impossible to forget but hard to remember at all) it’s not a common human experience because not many people can humble themselves to a point of very frankly facing the true nature of what kind of person your actions translate you to.
Regardless, though, no matter how hard it is to face yourself, what is there to fear? There are only so many things you can learn about yourself that should cause honest-to-god fear, and i don’t think we rationalize that correctly.

If you discover that your insecurities have translated to poor management of your tact or respect of others, alright, you’re rude, work on it. how hard is that?

If you discover an affinity for finding all the ugly in the morning, cool, you’re a negative nancy, smile a little more and count your blessings.

You people act like finding out that you’re not in fact perfect is somehow the end of the world.

I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can discover about yourself that isn’t in some way approachable, functional, flexible.

Nothing is permanent, nothing has to stay any way that you don’t want it to.

When will you finally understand that.

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