Ignorance is Your New Best Friend

Today's idea:

'You treat me just like another stranger. Well it's nice to meet you sir. I guess I'll go. I best be on my way out.'

People today need to learn a valuable lesson. Its always about words. People are silly enough to believe they have no power, but use the wrong words at the wrong time and in the wrong order and you can make yourself implode.

This is a truth.

Telling me to be something or do something has an adverse effect on me. Call it years of living with my parents telling me and pointing out the things and pieces of my personality that bothered them, never even bothering to accept me. I think that was the issue all along perhaps, that my parents couldn't never accept the quirks to my personality. They could accept my perfectionism, my fear of desicions, my ability to be strong when no one else is, and other things... but they couldn't accept the fact that I couldn't care about the things they did--how I looked, my extreme moments of sarcasm, or even take a second to see who I was, to look past the front.

So when someone else does the same thing. It angers me. I lose patience quickly. I'm not changing or acting nicer because you demand it to be so. My parents couldn't do that, why the hell would I let you? I mean really, come on. You at least are supposed to know better... or so I believed.

'This is the best thing that could've happened. Any longer and I wouldn't have made it. It's not a war. No, it's not a rapture. I'm just a person, but you can't take it...'

Friendship is accepting another for everything they are. FRIENDHIP is ACCEPTANCE. You hear that world? Effin acceptance. Something this world clearly evidently LACKS. Royally.

And acting out for attention, will get you no where. I have pride. Damn me, but I do. I bow my head for friendship. I damned well do. And I realize that friendship gives an opening to wounds that are already sore and open, and I bow my head--but the minute you cross me, the minute you stab the open wound, it's done. This is what we term as 'crossing the line'.

'The same tricks that, that once fooled me. They won't get you anywhere. I'm not the same kid from your memory. Well, Now I can fend for myself.'

Its kinda silly because at first it was just the anger that stung, but then the words got stuck in my head. 'Well you can just forget--' 'Well you can forget--' 'Well you can forget--' 'Well you can forget--' ...like a little rhythm of their own, and years of the same words playing as a background to all the misery and the feelings of pent up resentment came flooding back. See what I mean about words? The wrong words, in the wrong order, at the wrong time--created the wrong effect, because what I feel like doing is clawing out your eyes and using them as a marker for anyone else who comes closer. Anger much? Yes, plenty. Again, wrong words, wrong order, wrong time--because all its managed to do is remind me of the things I should rather forget and the people who've done the me the most harm.

And to that all I have is,

'I'll guess I'll go. I'll be best on my way out.'

Apparently I've overstayed my welcome.

;} -This has been the Dizzy, messing up as usual. :}