This counts as my 101 post total for my 4 blogs. 53,000+ words written over the past 11months. I wonder how much longer I can keep it up. Some posts take a lot more out of me than I would care to admit. Perhaps I should change the name of it to Tears and Blood. Such would be more fitting as these are not just my words but they are my feelings and thoughts. My dreams and nitemares. It is my story retold over and over with different words and different characters. In history thousands of others have told my story and it is nothing orginal. Thousands more will repeat it again in the future because history repeats itself.
I can’t get past this song. The lyrics running through my head in little circles Even when I can get rid of the instruments I still hear the voice speaking to me slowly. As if he is trying to reach across space and time to tell me something. You know those movies where the person receives a message from the future from themselves or someone else and its like, ‘You need to save the future!’ I keep hearing this and it sounds like a warning to me. It triggers several things that I see it applying to. One is a good thing but it could lead into something more and the end result could be even worse than the other.
‘I wont let this build up inside of me ‘
Self delusion allows one to mask someone else’s weaknesses and faults. It also can block your sight when reviewing your own faults. It is even more difficult when you can recognize some of them but others still remain beyond your sight. Sometimes we seek people who are like us in many ways. Once in a while the person you meet is so much alike you it is frightening. It is also tempting as you feel as if you know this person inside and out. What happens when you hate yourself and you meet yourself. It can become a relationship that can only really go one direction.
“I'm a slave and I am a master
No restraints and unchecked collectors
I exist through my need to self-oblige
She is something in me that I despise fine”
So many people fit the description so many of my friends match a little part of me. If I ever was to die I could be easily replaced. It would be a human puzzle. Take a little bit of personal pride from one. Add a touch of strength and conviction from another. Find the low self esteem in each and harvest it. Then a dash of anger and hate wrapped up in a blanket of love and compassion. Shake thoroughly and then bake for 25 years at 140.
“I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me…..
She isn't real
I can't make her real
She isn't real
I can't make her real”
It has always been my fault to place people on pedestals and admire them. Placing them a bit higher and magnifying in my mind their good parts. Ignoring what bad that I can deceive myself about. In the end after so much deceit I no longer recognize the person I had placed up there. They had ceased being real and became an dream that I wanted to come true. Such dreams fall apart easily. Am I someone else’s dream? Have I been placed up higher and when I disappoint them will they delude themselves into thinking something else? I doubt I could ever be such. I could pity the person who would do that with me. For I do not belong on a pedestal. The janitor doomed to clean the hallways of hero’s I am cursed to forever dream.
“I can’t make me real.”
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