The Things I Leave Unsaid

45. Thoughts and Life

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There are times in life where its difficult to be true. True to yourself, true to others, and true to the world. I have never been good at being true. I tell people I'm honest but I lie to myself every single fucking day. Every one. I tell myself, oh you're beautiful and I don't know why people don't love you, but its a lie. I know why.

I'm beautiful in a way, that is a fact. I have always been told I had a good face; by my mother, my friends, people on the sidewalk I've never met before in my life and random girls and guys who've seen me a thousand and one times but never bothered to really hold a conversation with me before.

I wear glasses. They hide a lot of that pretty person people talk about. Sometimes I take them off and pretend I'm perfect. Not so much. Pretend, being the key word.

I'm a few screws loose past typical perfection. It's alright though, no one cares about what's inside anyway as long as you look alright.

Don't comment saying looks don't matter, because really, it's the only solid thing about me. My personality, now that's fragile and easily changes with the day. How I look has been the same for years though. This is Earth. People are human, people are cruel. It does matter. Looks are everything, at least at first, and not one word you could say will ever convince me otherwise.

And I'd love to see you even try. I'm a very persuasive person and persuasive people are never easily convinced by others themselves.
Looks can be so very deceiving. And the scariest thing is, I don't know if I have anything under the surface.

I feel like I'm happy a lot. I tell people I am and soon I believe it too. Am I happy though? Or just numb? If I distract myself from the pain by living in these fantasy, fairytale worlds I and the people around me make up, distract and distance myself from the hurt and worry enough to the point where I only can feel it coming back and then I push it away once more, does it still count as pain or am I really happy and just doing an excellent job at coping with the hurt?

I probably sound like I'm on crack right now with these odd questions and statements but I'm not. No drugs besides caffeine are in this body as of this moment. I'm only drunk and high on the night, as I like to say.

I have a lot of friends and we all have problems. We talk about them late at night at parties I don't even want to be at. Truth or dare, spin the bottle, all those dumb childish games everyone secretly loves but pretends to hate. I used to always say to people, I'll be here for you if you need me.

When did I stop wanting to be there for them though?

I don't want to listen to you fish for compliments or cry about your pathetic life. I want to tell you things that you don't want to hear and maybe those words being true is the reason you don't want to hear them, I don't know. I want to help people, but my ways of helping them can hurt. The truth hurts. I only recently acknowledged my hatred of comforting people and I felt better and worse after I did. Better because, hey, at least I'm no longer lying to myself, but worse because crap, I hate helping my friends, that's not healthy. Well, at least I'm pretty..

I'm very self-conscious, even in my writing. I try to write for myself like everyone always says a person should but it doesn't work. Even as I sit here, trying to tell the whole truth, the complete truth, and nothing but the truth concerning me and my beliefs and thoughts, I'm wondering what you're going to say about it, if you'll say anything or just shrug me off, just another ordinary teenager crying like a bitch about their problems and how their life is so fucked up.

I think I'm always looking for pity. I think I'm always fishing for compliments because I'm not a good person and I'm insecure. I'm not a bad person because of my actions though so I feel guilty because then people think I'm a good person when if they could see my thoughts and how hard I have to try to be normal, they'd run from me in a heartbeat. They'd be disgusted. And I don't care what they think at the same time that I do. It's hard to explain. I lie to others saying how I am a good person, honest, kind, just, just,...good. But I'm not. I never have been and I never will be because I can be the nicest sweetest person in the world on the outside but inside, I'll always be ugly.

Looks matter to me because they're the only thing keeping me from being the ugliest thing to ever crawl over this side of earth. And I have to enjoy it for now. I can do so without guilt even because I know that when I can finally transform into my true self on the outside, I know I won't be beautiful anymore and I'll let myself go and be ugly the same exact way I am within my overloaded skull.

I have good intentions, you know. I don't say all this to be negative, I do try to be a good influence and help people. I like it sometimes, even.

I really want to be good; don't want to be this fucked up perosn who doesn't deserve anything but a shit storm. But things get in the way.

Life gets in the way.

I get in my own way and it sucks. It really sucks.

Listen to When I'm Gone by Simple Plan. It'll change your life if you let it, it's less of a parody than some of their other songs too but still enough of the whiny shit to get me going when I let it all pour out like this.

I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm really fucked up.

But I'm slowly fixing it.

Don't worry about me because I know everything will work out even if I'm not perfect. I'm not dying anymore than the next person and I'm not any more depressed than any other teenager or even adult around here. I'm no one special no matter what they say and I'm okay with that.

I'm a little sad, a bit filled with hatred, definitely a lot of pent-up anger inside, but I'm also happy and grateful for the little things. Some moments life just seems almost worth it and those are the moments I live for; those are the moments I understand that I'm going to be okay.

So yeah, I'm fucked up, but who isn't? Like I like to say, everyone is basically the same. There are exceptions, sure, but in the end, we're all about the same. Some of us are more enlightened about it compared to those who are so absorbed in their own hells, they can't see past the flames that are burning them to realize that their pain is nothing new to anyone, but that's life.

So get a grip, stop the excuses, and get up. Stop reading and sitting on your ass and go do something amazing.

That's what I'm trying to do.

Good luck.

~Dustin the Great