February 12, 2010

Needed

The same problems have plagued me since I was a baby. I get backed into a corner, hoping someone will grab me. All I hear is maybes. Am I just crazy? Have my morals betrayed me? These things hurt me but I deny it. The people that gave me inspiration now destroy it. How can I ever become the man I should’ve when all I hear is could’ve. Could’ve done this, could’ve done that. Expectations are a bitch, even worse than payback. I try to be the bigger man but it never seems to be enough. I tell myself integrity betrayed me. Do I brush off my sleeve and say its not my fault? Where did the chip come from? I hate it. I should be great but lately I just feel late. Late to solve the problem, late to fix the drama. Why do I feel obliged to fix the life that surrounds me? Is it all a pipe dream? Am I just blowing off steam? I can’t tell what it means but it makes me so so mean. I let my rage out on this keyboard because I don’t want to go to jail. So many people walk around with hurt and hate yet, feel great. Why do I feel bad for being good? Why am I so good at being bad? I don’t care what people think but I prefer the middle road. Why make me an enemy when we could be compadres?

The whole fiasco hurts me soul. Do I care about all of you or do I care about losing control? It’s not my job to be in the middle. Their problems become mine and I go from being fine to hating each line - of bullshit - that you give me. You look up to me and I look down on you. I fill your trough with hope and you snort it up with dope. Where does drunk talk end and real advice begin? I’m not a healer I’m a stealer, a thief. I steal your problems and make them my own. Fuck! We’re already grown. I used to love you. You were my friend. Why did I put all that work in? My vanity is destroying my insanity. I feel great by feeling your hate. I’m your superior because I keep you in that hole. I made you inferior. It doesn’t matter if what I say is true. Between me and you we’re both stuck in the slop. Objectively, you’re the one down there. I try to lend a hand but your head remains in the sand. I’m a problem solver. That’s what I was put here for. You’re dependent on me. You’re incapable of fixing your position and I pretend to sit and listen. I spew good advice. I spew  bile. I want you to make it but you never will. I’m your crutch. You must know I don’t really give a fuck. I need you to remind me that my problems aren’t as bad as yours. But, I love you. Keep your head up. Make it. Prove my tirade faulty. Take that adversity and become strong. I see your potential but you don’t. I’ll keep reminding you that I’ll stand by you. Secretly, I’m standing  far behind you.
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Image taken from: http://www.cretarolodesign.com/portfolio_cindy.php

5 comments:

  1. WOW. Excellent writing; Of course. How I feel about it, Uhhh, I'm not sure. It kind of scares me.

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  2. Very nice. It's like stream of consciousness poetry. It would be great to listen to it being read.

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  3. Christopher, you probably know by now that I love this style of writing... the kind where we go deep inside and write what needs to be said. Lovely and intimate and very profound!

    Nevine

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  4. The Me: It scares me a little too.

    Carol: Maybe I'll do a youtube recording of something I've written sometime.

    Nevine: Thanks so much, Nevine. Your writing always captivates and makes me look at things from a raw point of view.

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  5. Amazing.

    I find that sometimes I deal with similar feelings.

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