It’s been 16 years and life already feels like it should be over. I want out. But at the same time I’m scared….because I don’t know what happens next! I hate the unknown. Going will kill my Mum and she’s already on the edge – all I care about – but it will give me relief.
I want to go because as I quote from Footloose: “I have been so lost. I’ve been losing my mind! And you don’t even see it. You don’t even care”. I’m not who I want to be and I can’t be that person because I’ve left it too late to realize who that is which leaves me unhappy as who I am; granted I can do some things toward being that person but I’m NEVER going to be her. Be Perfect.
I have this stupid idea in my head of what perfect is. But there’s no such thing as perfect. Yet I still want it – want to BE it. It’s like…….Do you ever feel like more than one person; multi-souled almost? ‘Cause that’s what it’s like.
I started out with a clear idea of what i wanted this post to say and be. Perfect. It hasn’t gone the way I wanted it too and I’ve lost what I wanted it to be. Like my life – myself. So I have to end it here and hope that the next one is – dare I say it – PERFECT.
3 comments
I don’t know about perfection. But I enjoyed your piece. Seemed to get your point across, err uhh perfectly.
Thanks for sharing, looking forward to the next one!
Maybe the way you imagined this post, and the things in your life, aren’t as perfect as you hoped they would be but perfection doesn’t happen instantly.
You have to build it up, and works on things, and then they might be closer to the image you have in your mind.
It’s not really a stupid idea but maybe a bit unrealistic.
But if you’re determined enough, work hard enough and have a little bit of patience it might be a little close at least to the image of “perfect” you have in your mind and then you can work things out from there.
Perfect is something I never want to be. Imperfections are what makes us unique. Imperfections tell us apart from one another. I saw a ‘perfect being’ once it was beautiful and gave me joy…but it didn’t have a body. Bodies bleed, age ,break, scar and die. They tell stories of the past. I don’t want to be perfect. I don’t want to be somebody’s idea of perfection. I want to be free and I want to truly live… before I die.