Men Don't Have Crocodile Tears.
I just played Adele's song turned it off cause it felt uplifting. I want company for my misery, I don't want a song that has higher positive emotion than my heart has cause it feels like you feel when someone has all A's in her transcript and you have Re-sits in all.
I have fucked up once more. I have. I decided to take my path therefore, my failure is my own burden. I cannot blame it on the boss cause am my own boss. Dammit.
But as much as I feel like shit. I cannot go on talking about how shitty I feel. How everything is fucked up, even the milk in the fridge has expired...and am thirsty for something to drink. Its a shitty day but being negative is retrogressive. But I want to be real, by the end of this post after all the bitching I must end on a positive note.
She thinks she is going to save me, she actually believes she is going to save me, how quit. Chic I will need so much saving by the time you are done with me you will feel like a trailer just run on you. I can't be saved, I fuck up every now and again. My heart is as unstable as lightening. I mood swing with the effects of a tsunami, only that I hurt myself the most, but don't think I dint hurt those around me.
Watch me, I can build your life, just by virtue of being close to me, I have everything but am needier than you think. If its an exchange, you are there for me, I am meant to return a favor be there for you, do you think I will keep the end of the bargain?
I sometimes close the world, I take to the cold streets, I wear black boots, I wear a scarf that could buy a car, I wear a jacket that feels softer to wear than the pink velvet of sex, leave the car walk in the streets and let the rain pour on me alone. Cause I feel I am here alone, and what better way of paying for your fuck ups than letting rain pour on you, it's like taking a shower to wipe off your filth, the filth of under performance, the filth of acting like a dush, ignoring calls from people who care about you, engaging in self destructive practices by condoning sadder thoughts than happy ones.
It's a fucked up world babe, you can't save me, it's tiring, it's not humanly possible to save me. Let's go out tonight, everyone drinks on me, find refuge in the masses, the more friends in my life, the more the better, fake ones, real ones who cares, if I make sure I do good to them, the whole lot of them, I know most are good for nothing, but when I fail, when am fucked up.
Out of the so many, one will save me, and when they get tired of listening to my troubles, when they get tired of saving me, another will rise to the occasion out of guilt, not love, return of a favor, to save me, but if no one does.
I have this sad songs, misery loves company, and is there anyone more miserable than me in the world? I don't think so? I am so miserable, it becomes talent. I laugh at such irony.
Breathing in, breathing out, I don't know what the fuck am doing fucking up my relationship, I don't know what the fuck am doing, and I know i will need her, I know I need her like I need air. And am fucking up, am fucking up everyday, she will leave? Can I feel her leave? Maybe she wants to leave but she doesn't know it yet? Maybe she already left?
Why the fuck are you with me? I can be an attractive mess, that I know. Damaged goods, people come, take what they want, and they leave. No one stays this long.
So today I covered myself in trying to understand myself, and I discovered that most of what is in books has the potential of being wrong. I tried to find out where the root of my creativity lies. All I got were explanations. So technically what books are are an observation, an analysis of the world, put in books.
So baby, what makes me happy is to find out what is in the books, cause I don't want to re-invent the wheel, I want to flourish so much that my work is written about. Writing trying to beat there heads explaining in theories why I am the way I am, why my work is the way it is.
That's what I seek, I seek it more than a career, I seek it more than fitting in, I seek it more, but problem is sometimes my obsession drives me to slowly fuck everything else in my life, it's like I get into a trance. I want to understand the whole world, start understanding from the efforts of others who have analyzed it in books and what not.
After that, I can observe it for myself, understand it, and make my life and your life, and those around me better. But in quest for that, sometimes I make you sad.
I don't give you as much attention, I make you feel a tear run down your face. And now when I speak about the things I know, I slowly start feeling detached from most of the people I know.
But am trying, am trying to deliver a punch line with a joke, I am trying to say good morning every morning. Good night at night.
I am not trying to tell you you are beautiful, that I don't need to try, it comes out naturally, I love your hair, I love the way you carry yourself, I love the way you pose when you stand, I love the way you react, I love the way your lips stick, lip bum, lip whatever tastes on my lips.
I love you babe. Am still here. The tear in my eyes says so, I believe it, you better believe it, cause men don't have a reserve for crocodile tears.
