Let me introduce you to the game...
We'll call it Russian roulette. Consider careless words the bullets that threaten to breach my sense of self. I'm never prepared for it...can never brace myself against it. Those words that thrust me back into my past; remind me of that space in time when I was in that damnable box. Always trying to be what they needed. I needed to be...what they wanted me to be. And when I no longer wanted that, when I longed to be just me?
Well let's just say there was a bit of a commotion.
I have many pet peeves, but I would say at the top of the list is someone telling me I'm only allowed to be a certain way at a certain time. Like...what the fuck is that? There is no scheduled variability here. I don't get open and deep and sight-seeing and more on command. It's whenever the fuck I want to and jeezly crow when are folks going to learn this about me?
My wagon is hitched to no one's star but my own. I don't coattail anyone's dreams...even though I vicariously live through them. Because of that I don't need a by your leave to morph, evolve, or even regress. Lately I can't help but think of the other two...those "friends" of mine who actually believed I was nothing without them. The real me was the most jagged of pills on their tongues. Back then I wondered what was so...lacking about the I.
Always thinking I wasn't enough. When really...I was just too.fucking.much. I finally realized that.
I don't know why I mess/fool/deal with you. I get that alot. But come on now....we both know why you trifle with me. It's because I am the unmitigated shit. And I highly doubt you know anyone else like me.
Lord, the battles I had to go through to get here, where I love the I at 100 percent capacity. My quirks, my mood swings, my predisposition towards abject nerdiness, my uber weirdness. Sometimes I feel...maybe irrationally that I still have to fight for my own comfort. I resist constraint with unexpected intensity. I guess it's because...though my sense of self is unshakeable, it hurts bugs me no less when I sense that someone might actually want to restrain or change me.
*shakes my fist at the sky* Damn you erstwhile father for leaving me with these control issues!
I don't know...I think some folks occupy the same plane with me...but that shit must be on tilt from time to time...
Cause man...niggas be slippin'.
Posted by Lisa at November 10, 2006 09:03 PM