me - raw

I’m not perfect.

Last night I had another one of those moments where it’s like a light bulb goes off, but its not like I’m realizing something new…its just more of a reminder of how disjointed I can be at times. Not sure if disjointed is the word I wanted there, but yeah, with the flow of my thoughts. The duality of me…the fact that I feel at times that my life is a mere ironic oxymoron.

I feel as though I deal with things that are hard, but yet, I never want to single myself out, I never want to be different from other people, but then at the same time I want people to know where I’m coming from, I want them to know what its like to be me, its not easy. Then I think about it and its like, what the fuck, there are so many people out there who have real problems. But aren’t my problems real problems, aren’t they validated?

I struggle with being nice, socially conscious and wallowing in self pity, which is funny, because I despise pathetic people who wrap themselves up in their own problems, but yet, a good sense of self appreciation and navel gazing does a body good.

Sometimes I think I’m crazy, like I’m the only one in the world who thinks the things I do, but then, I know I’m not, I’m one dot of humanity on the sphere that is the whole, a single sprinkle of dust.

I was angry last night, and hurt…but that wasn’t want got to me, nope, it was the complete feeling of helplessness. I desperately need to fill in control of my life, I need to know that I’m driving this car….and when faced with limitations, or feeling as though I’m a caged bird stuck between a rock and a hard place I just want to shout, scream…runaway, but I can’t do that. I care too much.

So there I was last night in the car with Scott, Carla and Schanelle on the way to karaoke and I had this epiphany of sorts….when I die, I’m not sure if I want a headstone, a green burial sounds appealing, but so does the thought of spreading my ashes to the universe, when all is said and done, I want my epitaph to be, “She loved despite faults”.