disclaimer: this is literally cringe and deeply intimate but i'm trying to win the idgaf war really really really really hard so there .
terrible person complex
i would like to completely disappear under the guise of anonymity. shrug off my personality like a dirty blouse and chuck it in the washing machine and then forget it.
talking to strangers like it's a cure
i suppose we have to start somewhere, right?
though i can't cut everyone off and become a new person, that's unrealistic
actually, they say, a start is a start
well, this is a waste of time. i shut the laptop. maybe i should think about therapy?
but was it not i, who was mad at therapyspeak earlier?
what do you mean our season of friendship is over; are you fucked in the head?
but maybe i AM
fucked in the head, that is
terrible person complex
terrible woman complex
noun
1. an inherent belief that you're a terrible, terrible woman who has no actual capacity for love or compassion and any incident where you have displayed such emotions have been a farce and a parody; like you're an alien; you don't know how people are; you learnt from movies.
terrible person complex is accompanied by an existential whale-sized fear that one day, someday, somehow, despite how well you hide it, someone, some pesky adorable little fucking fucker is going to pick up on your true (horribly pathetic, depravedly selfish) self and out you to the world; thus truly leaving you all alone
a pariah inside out!
strangely, i am comforted by the thought. it makes me smile in my mind! wow!
FLEABAG: I have a horrible feeling I'm a greedy, perverted, selfish, apathetic, cynical, depraved, mannish-looking, morally bankrupt woman who can't even call herself a feminist.
DAD: Well... You get all that from your mother.
Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Fleabag: The Original Play
i imagine a really bad date
the date is so not picking up what i'm putting down
so i put on my most hopeful smile with my baby browns all wide and ask if i could get another chance
i would go home that night and find a new self!
one that would be better suited next to you! really! i would! no, i don't mind. i have no integrity whatsoever.
maybe it's a bad day. maybe this season of friendship needs to end. maybe i need to get off my laptop. permanently. maybe it's simply a bad life but 17 is too idealistic of an age to accept that.
someone said:
cringe? don't let your internalized shame rub off on me!
and i just think i am so desperate to become like that. how DO i shake off my fucking shame? what am i fucking ashamed off! i have a pleasing face. i can talk to people. i lost the post-puberty chub. i read and i write and i say some funny things sometimes. i also paint and play the ukulele very very rarely! boys have dated me; not such a flex. and so have girls; a flex! i am trying my fucking best!
but the shame is like a fucking cockroach
like
when you wake up in the middle of the night and go to your kitchen and you stand there, at the threshold, cold floor beneath bare skin, and you just know. that something has been crawling on your kitchen floor. as you stand there, you have a knowledge that there is movement, coordination. there is ; the cockroach. and shame works the same.
the cockroach of shame is always around.
you don't know how the fuck it got there. you keep your house spick and span clean!
but sometimes you leave the front door open, unguarded
and there's the kitchen drain, of course
and darkness exists
and these are all places where shame and cockroaches reside
there is no good or bad place to start.
well
then i'll start now
i disown my shame. and this june will see me shedding it off. or trying to. atleast. i like that word. very convenient. at the very least! gives me breathing space.
anyway, goodbye to the shame cockroach. this self-hatred is not good for posture. i will go make myself a sweet treat for now. and thank god it's already eight pm and the day is over and i can escape to my bedroom.
thank you. i say that because i think it is the most appropriate ending to this piece of writing.
yeah, thanks.
