there is a surprising amount of shoulders around me belonging to friends and maybe one lover. but yet today, as i bite my lip over what curious agenda life’s natural forces will take me, i want nothing more than one to cry on or lay on. i want one to just be near me and give me a genuine consolation. not words, just company.
yet the alarming population that increases as days go by and all own such appendages are nowhere, or seem awkward when i am forlorn.
such that is my life. if i could make a mold of my own shoulder that could emit a comforting warmth — oh — how pleasing life would be! a clone of myself maybe. i don’t even mind if the clone of me was equipped with all my whimsies and woes. i know better than anybody how to fix my emotional errors.
maybe a user’s guide for those who share my company regularly would be admissible. it wouldn’t be long. maybe just come with a short foreword about how i am selfless and kind to faults; that i am bound to be taken for granted as i seem nearly unable to decline love and caring and to be careful because while the user might feel at fault, truly, their blame is negligible. i am learning to be better with my ability to say no, truly. i am proud of my accomplishments and my self-improvement (it is the best masturbation i’ve yet experienced).
there is still that tinge of failure when i can’t cheer up those around me. i think that causes me some of the most pain. when i care about someone, it’s always a very strong, deep kind of love. my friends, the men i grow fond of, my family… when i am unable to save their drowning moods or respirate their happiness, i grow incredibly morose. when that is stacked on top of an insanely crushing feeling of not-being-good-enough due to my own folly and bad decision, it just makes for me right now.
i am sitting at my best friend’s house. i didn’t want to go home yet. she’s at work. i am fighting my regular anxiety, i am wishing the few people i asked to come share their company with me would do so. instead, i am on my own. i am watching cars pass through a partially opened window, browsing the vast yonders of the ever boring and disappointing internet, drinking cold coffee that lacks the cream it takes to taste worthwhile to me, and wishing partially i could fall back to sleep. my dreams last night were shitty though, and that makes it even harder on me.
i have so many things i want to just… say and talk about. i need an ear to come with that shoulder.
i hate posting these things here. they seem to leave me vulnerable and susceptible. playing the tough girl is tiring though. maybe i’ll just delete this post later when i have enough alcohol in my system to forget about yesterday.. or, really, maybe most of the last year.