DISTANT MEMORIES

FLAWS

The way we perceive our selves is fundamentally different from the way anyone else sees us. A lot of the times we see flaws, everyone has one, whether it be physical or mental. My flaws are my heart, my mind, and my body.

The Heart.
I wish I could make it stop, figuratively or literally. It is no blessing to love this much, it is a burden, a curse, a plague upon myself and anyone around me. Once I receive a droplet of attention from anyone I become a nuisance, constantly demanding for attention where I do not deserve it. I bug and beg and bother for attention, I force people into a friendship and then I get attached. I fall In love with everyone in an instant then rack my brain thinking of why they don't love me back when we've merely just met. I feel wrong, as a person, I feel as if I am a huge error forgotten to be erased by whatever made us. I've driven almost everyone away with my overbearing heart,  and I just wish I could get rid of it all.

The Mind.
As I write this there's a thousand words rapidly popping into my head, and I can't decide. I'm crazy, and I don't mean the kinda crazy that white girls say they are when they do anything slightly exciting. Cant you tell by the shaking?! I got voices in my head, and every single one wants something different for me. I have the memory of a goldfish and the dexterity of a sloth. I'm smart yet slow, unsure of every little decision I make. I push and push myself down because I do not have the balls nor the brains to do anything slightly risky. I can't stop moving or speaking it attacks me mentally and I must be kept busy as I have some sort of disability.
I wish there was a way I could get rid of this foggy mind and not care.

The Body.
People tell you to always be confident but then will turn around and talk shit about you immediately. You're not allowed to feel  proud about your body unless you're skinny and good looking. I look at my stretch marks and I feel ashamed, I look at my man tits and feel ashamed. Ashamed that I can't fit into any of the clothes I wish I could wear, ashamed that I can't wear one too many articles of clothing without making a pool of sweat under me, ashamed that the very people who brought me up look down on me because I am fat. Maybe, hopefully, one day I can look in the mirror and be proud of the hanging belly, and the shaking arms, and the big nose. For now I feel nothing but shame.

As flawed as I am, I am still human and maybe it's my flaws that make me human. So you bear witness to my misfortune and you judge me as I stand on the imaginary pedestal. What am I to you?
The end