I wanna do something stupid. I’m sick of being misunderstood by people, not being listened to, not validated, shot down, treated like I don’t matter, looked down at, eyed suspiciously, questioned fiercely, and with disdain. I try to understand and not be understood, but on days like today I question who my real friends are and who are just pretending. I too used to hate what I didn’t understand but then realized that was just a useless philosophy—only today I still hate those that don’t understand me, even though that is a selfish thing to seek. I don’t want anyone to hate me; I’m nobody’s enemy. I try to be nice and gentle, even cordial to those I care nothing for—for after all I am only two-faced to those I don’t like—but then I ask myself what’s with all the bitterness? I really never meant to harm anyone and it pains me when I get used time & time—used like a scape goat. A patsy. Don’t blame me! The world has its problems, but don’t blame me. People have their issues, their shortcomings, their weaknesses—even I fall short of my own ideal at times, and my own ideal is the only perfection that matters—but don’t blame me. In any feud between any two people, there is always a grand total of TWO People to blame. So don’t blame me. Sometimes I can act foolish and pig-headed, but getting upset that my reactions are not quite what You had in mind is a weakness of its own. Sometimes I get angry, I scream and shout, I kick walls and beat myself black and blue and bloody; sometimes I get sad and crawl into a hole and cry; sometimes I can be flattering to all those that I love—and trust me when I say, I mean all the lies that I told you—I can tell you sweet things and hold your hand when you get scared, kiss you on the head and run my hand through your hair, I can cuddle all night and tell you I love you, I love you so much———but don’t forget: where there’s light, a darkness always follows; and where there’s darkness, a brightness will always cut holes in and add depth to the emptiness, the void that I fall into when my head is all fucked up. So love me for all my dimensions, all my twisted insecurities and my soul-pleasing sincerities, all my wrongs and my rights and my truths and my lies. Sometimes I get a bit obscene, but don’t hate me for it, love me for it, hold me all night till the light surfaces and together we can reassure ourselves that this is true, it’s false, it’s real, it’s fake, it’s neither one nor the other, it’s both miraculous and repulsive.