{"id":2729,"date":"2018-03-28T16:01:57","date_gmt":"2018-03-28T21:01:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/?p=2729"},"modified":"2018-03-28T16:01:57","modified_gmt":"2018-03-28T21:01:57","slug":"i-really-want-to-curse-right-now","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/2018\/03\/28\/i-really-want-to-curse-right-now\/","title":{"rendered":"I Really Want to Curse Right Now"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><em>I love your earthen smile and the sadness quilted in it. The way the ocean stands startled at the blue flecks in your irises&#8230;<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I want to peel my skin off with how pathetic this is.<\/p>\n<p>(That was supposed to be an example of some of the clich\u00e9 writing I create on a daily basis.)<\/p>\n<p>I am not good, I am not anyone, and my poetry means nothing only because absolutely <em>nothing<\/em> drives it.<\/p>\n<p>Nothing has really <em>ever<\/em> driven me besides fear. And now that I am not scared of anything, anyone, even, I don&#8217;t know what to do with myself.<\/p>\n<p>There are fragments of my fallout that keep catching on people I&#8217;ve connected with.<\/p>\n<p>My pieces. Me, rubbing off. I have lost myself; everyone keeps pulling me apart.<\/p>\n<p>(And I let it happen.)<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;ve never cared less about what happens around me than I do now, and the thought used to scare me. I think I have been caring so much, for so long, that, I finally busted. My insides aren&#8217;t feeling <em>inside of me<\/em> these days. My face is one that is photo-shopped, incorrect, incomplete.<\/p>\n<p>I am not sorry about hurting people, or maybe it is that I have become so sorry that I do not understand the emotion anymore. (<em>Sorry<\/em> doesn&#8217;t mean much and it&#8217;s because I overuse it.)<\/p>\n<p>For the most part, I want to do better.<\/p>\n<p>Not because of any other reason I&#8217;ve ever had before, mostly because I&#8217;m running out of time.<\/p>\n<p><em>(Time for what? )<\/em><\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;ve got no clue. I can just feel all of my life slipping away before I&#8217;ve even gotten a chance to begin it. I want to scream. This font isn&#8217;t big enough. The words don&#8217;t mean anything. Life tends to be irrevocably terrible, at times.<\/p>\n<p>I start counseling tomorrow. I feel like a story book character. I don&#8217;t want to talk to anybody. I want to be better. I just don&#8217;t want to be normal.<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>Hey, me again. I&#8217;m doing a little better than when I started this blog. I still want to scream, pretty much always.<\/p>\n<p>Big things sometimes happen without me realizing it. I am just now in my life beginning to understand how much I&#8217;ve looked over in my past. I have a lot of feelings in me, always, and I have trouble expressing how much I care and don&#8217;t care and feel and <em>just cannot feel<\/em> sometimes.<\/p>\n<p>I think this me is for the best. Being strange is like sitting in the part of a pillowcase that only holds air. While the rest seems tucked away tightly, I am feeling a little spacious, floating around above everything else, cotton clear. I keep seeing things.<\/p>\n<p>(That metaphor was stupid, but I am not going to change it.)<\/p>\n<p>There is going to be a lot for us right now, and there is going to be a lot for us tomorrow. We just have to wait it out.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I love your earthen smile and the sadness quilted in it. The way the ocean stands startled at the blue flecks in your irises&#8230; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &#8230; &nbsp; &nbsp; I want to peel my skin off with how pathetic this is. (That was supposed to be an example of some of the clich\u00e9 writing &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/2018\/03\/28\/i-really-want-to-curse-right-now\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;I Really Want to Curse Right Now&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":25,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2729"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/25"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2729"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2729\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3050,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2729\/revisions\/3050"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2729"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2729"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2729"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}