Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
It's that fucking speed bump.
I'm cruising, thinking all's fine, then BOOM! What the fuck was that?!
I've said it before: I like the truth. I need people in my life to be... blunt.
For the most part, I normally need someone to tell me when I'm being a fuckhead.
However... there are certain truths that just... jar me.
This shuts me up.
I always wonder what people's REAL impression of me is... I'm definitely not going to lie about that. Do you like me as a person? Why or why not?
I find it as a way to... improve, I suppose. I just want to make others happy and comfortable... didn't know that was something to be reprimanded for.
To read that message was like a slap to the back of my head.
So... that's how you... identify me?
You know what happens when I DON'T care? I get eaten alive. I am mercilessly ripped to shreds. I WOULDN'T care if someone would be there to back me up... but, hilariously enough, after 27 years, Life has only proven to me that I indeed have NO ONE.
People will sit back and listen to others shit-talk everything about me, from my choice in shoes, to the fucking shape of my nose... and do NOTHING. They will not defend me, they will not ask for the conversation to be changed. They will sit there and listen until I am decimated.
You can only try and "act" like you don't care for so long... listening to others rip you to shreds until you finally just... give up. People are so fucking ruthless, they will attack until they FORCE you to care.
But I don't say all this. No one needs to hear all this.
I just do what I've always done: shut up and put a massive amount of space between us.
You know when you break a glass plate and try to glue it back together? Yeah, it doesn't work... you'll always see those cracks.
Ever wonder why I'm so quiet? -- Because I don't want to ruin shit once I open my mouth.
And here I thought I gave a down-to-earth, chill vibe... that I was a girl of a dying breed...
Turns out I'm really just a shallow, conceited cunt... like every other girl in the world.
It's that fucking speed bump.
I'm cruising, thinking all's fine, then BOOM! What the fuck was that?!
I've said it before: I like the truth. I need people in my life to be... blunt.
For the most part, I normally need someone to tell me when I'm being a fuckhead.
However... there are certain truths that just... jar me.
This shuts me up.
I always wonder what people's REAL impression of me is... I'm definitely not going to lie about that. Do you like me as a person? Why or why not?
I find it as a way to... improve, I suppose. I just want to make others happy and comfortable... didn't know that was something to be reprimanded for.
To read that message was like a slap to the back of my head.
So... that's how you... identify me?
You know what happens when I DON'T care? I get eaten alive. I am mercilessly ripped to shreds. I WOULDN'T care if someone would be there to back me up... but, hilariously enough, after 27 years, Life has only proven to me that I indeed have NO ONE.
People will sit back and listen to others shit-talk everything about me, from my choice in shoes, to the fucking shape of my nose... and do NOTHING. They will not defend me, they will not ask for the conversation to be changed. They will sit there and listen until I am decimated.
You can only try and "act" like you don't care for so long... listening to others rip you to shreds until you finally just... give up. People are so fucking ruthless, they will attack until they FORCE you to care.
But I don't say all this. No one needs to hear all this.
I just do what I've always done: shut up and put a massive amount of space between us.
You know when you break a glass plate and try to glue it back together? Yeah, it doesn't work... you'll always see those cracks.
Ever wonder why I'm so quiet? -- Because I don't want to ruin shit once I open my mouth.
And here I thought I gave a down-to-earth, chill vibe... that I was a girl of a dying breed...
Turns out I'm really just a shallow, conceited cunt... like every other girl in the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment