Zrighteous

September 2, 2011

DO YOU EVER FEEL

like you don’t fit in?

like no matter how hard you try or don’t try, it’s not right?

like everyone around you is better than you to someone because:

-they’re more laid back
-they smoke pot
-they’re funnier
-they take more risks
-they’re more agreeable
-they drink a lot
-they dress more provacative
-they’re slutty
-they’re dumber

i’m so sick of feeling jealous of stuff i don’t even want to be.

August 25, 2011

Help me fill the void.

August 15, 2011
I can’t promise you a perfect relationship without arguments over our differences and trust issues, however, I can promise you as long as you’re trying, I’m staying.
August 12, 2011

They all say the same stuff in the beginning.  You start to believe it.  Why do people say things they don’t mean?  I realize things will fade some, naturally, but the extent of the fade in my situations is getting comical.  And I’m simply too fragile to handle these events.

It’s like I can’t catch a break.  They really have been one after the other.  You start to question if it’s you. 

No one wants to be around a mopey person, but sometimes it’s straight hard to come out of it.  All you feel like doing is curling up in a ball and asking “why me?  why this again?”  Nothing consoles you, because all you want is that one person to see what’s wrong and fix it.  Come back and say how stupid they’ve been.  Do it all right, realizing what they’d be losing.

“sorry.  sometimes i don’t realize how hurtful i am.”  Such a beautiful moment.  Only to be taken away again the very next day.

I wish I were stronger.

August 8, 2011

THEY DON’T REALIZE IT BUT

Some library patrons give me hope.  They restore some of my damaged faith in people. 

- The ones who come in with their spouses of over 30 years and read together.
- The young, lone boy who checks out poetry books and Ernest Hemingway novels.
- My self-adopted grandpa who comes in to socialize and read the paper.  He brings me desserts also.
- The men who religiously pick up their wives’ romance books for them.
- The die-hard certain author fans who push their books unto me.  I admire your devotion.  Even if I have no desire to read them.
- People who bring their kids just to read to them and play with them in the kid’s section.  I love good parenting.
- In reference to good parenting, I love those well-mannered kids.

So many more.  I’ve made so many friends here.  So many influences.  I love this job because I know I’ll look back on it fondly.  Remembering everyone I’ve known. 

Did I mention I work with my grandma too?  haha.  It’s an interesting situation. 

August 5, 2011

LATELY I’VE BEEN GETTING BRUISED

by a love I can’t afford to lose.

and I can’t say that I like it, but

what else am I supposed to do?

(Lauren O’Connell)

August 3, 2011

Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who listened to those guest speakers and lectures in school about drugs and alcohol. I know there’s others who think the same out there, but I so rarely see them.

I wish people could see what I see.

August 2, 2011

I would like to have someone to read to. To have someone willing to lay with me and read with me would be quite an experience.

August 1, 2011

I WANT TO

move away.  Start over. 

July 28, 2011
Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up a whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ or ‘how very perceptive’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love. The character Rose Walker from Neil Gaiman’s “The Sandman #65”