Your Punctuation Makes Me Nervous

 

i feel your smugness and
superior attitude and i
start to cringe. i don't
like that i always seem
to end up disappointing
those who think they know
me. i will disappoint
you one too many times
and then where will i be?

oh yeah. i'll be here.

alone.

right.

well, i want the fucking middle
ground, damn it. i want the
balance between too much and
not enough. i want, if not
perfection, excellence, and
my own limitations drive me
crazy.

"we're not bodies with souls,
we're souls with bodies."

so what? who cares? big fat
deal. my body is as tired as
my soul, or the other way around.
it's like i've gotten a glimpse
of what life has in store for me
down the road and i'm not very
happy with what i see.

is this really it? this push-away,
draw-close, push-away person i am?
what a disappointment i am to myself
these days. the struggle to "find
myself," something i should have done
long ago, is wearing me down like
water on a river rock. am i this?
am i that? just what the fuck am i?

and who the hell cares anyway?

all right. i'll go to bed. but
i bet i won't feel any different
when i wake up. it's a chore to
get through this life and into the
one beyond. how much enlightenment
can one human being attain before
they finally figure out that it's
not going to be the way they dream
it will be? it's going to be like
this, this pushing and pulling and
falling and rising and "good job"
and "you need to work on this" and
"i love you-i hate you, don't go,
get the hell out."

i need a new nickname. i've moved
beyond nymph and am in the crone
zone now.

denise

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