Bullet Proof Skin
If you catch yourself wondering why someone would chose to be alone rather than be with you, stop. You are not a last resort, you are something to attain to. If you start losing yourself in fantasies of another, punch yourself in the face. If you feel yourself staring at a phone that won't vibrate, leave it at home and go to scream at the sea. If you're having a bad day and you feel like they don't care, you might be right, but you might be wrong, the whole world does not revolve around you.
The advice I give myself isn't always brilliant.
To relearn is death, but the dead have been walking the earth for years.
If you're laying in bed fighting back tears for no reason, then maybe you need this in this moment. If your heart is in your throat because (rightly or wrongly) you think you've fucked it all up, stare at your hands until they stop shaking. Cuddle a cat and tell yourself you're not as bad as you think you are.
Don't place all your happiness in one basket and don't expect miracles because hoping always causes heartache. (But heartache = artwork).
Sometimes the best way to deal with shit is not to see yourself as such a pretty little prize.
I love easily and I care easily. It doesn't take much for people to take up residence where my heart should be. I expect more from myself and others than I rightly should and I'm naive in as much as sometimes I still long for my feelings to be reciprocated. Sometimes I'm really stupid.
Last night I walked home barefoot
This morning my insides are strewn across the floor
I'm prone to attaching hopes to people, places. The day I arrived in Prague when I was 21 I hid in my hotel room and cried, because I was still there. I'm not sure what I had been expecting, a two hour flight doesn't change you into a new person. (But if it did would you take that flight?) The first inclination of someone I care about leaving and I panic, there are tears and a want to call, text, beg them.
"Please, listen, I'm sorry I'm crazy but I like you and I like our friendship and what we have, please, please, don't go"
Except I'm good at leaving and I rarely look back. I make decisions that I need to for me, selfishly. I never mean to hurt anyone, but that doesn't necessarily make it all better.
The searching lights have stopped. That means the helicopters have stopped searching for me. And I finally got to see the sky. Bright red with brilliance, just like the blood that came shooting out of your eyes. And I finally got to see the sky. If you won't look at me, you won't look at anyone. The comparison is astounding. As the grass turned the colour of the sky, you told me you were sorry. As the grass turned the colour of the sky you told me you were wrong. But that's what they all say. On your knees and tell me you can't live without me. Your empty sockets will serve as my love.
(The Acacia Strain - Smoke Ya Later)
Saying sorry is never enough, and neither is changing everything and starting again. Sometimes all you can do is try to absorb the bad with as much good as you can possibly find. Hoping that the good can become a parasite that consumes every little bad thing around.
It rarely works like that.
I used to believe I was a star-child. That if we do have multiple lives, this is my first one as a human, because no matter how much I try, I still, still get it wrong. Shame me enough and I'll go away and never come back. Apparently the same mistakes are not the same when I'm the one making them.
The devil himself was pulled out from me.
There's a chasm between the identity I have and the identity I think would fit me best, and the journey in finding that is not always paved with roses.
Today I like you more than I should.