- to do something with soul, creativity, or love ;
- to put something of yourself into your work
Have you ever wanted to know what people truly think of you? Whether or not they find you annoying, irritating, like a waste of space? Or maybe you are the most attractive person to them, or maybe you're one of the funniest people on earth to them.
Here's one way to find out, ask them :
"If I died, and there was a funeral, and you had to speak, what would you say about me?"
Ask for a eulogy.
See I know I'm not a good person.
I pretend to be, I'm a pretty good actress when it comes down to it. I mean, I have the face of an innocent child and some would say I'm a pathological liar. My inner thought are always dark and terrible but on the outside I'll be the softest girl you've ever met.
My favorite color is red. It always has been but as a child I would say it was pink or blue or something, softer, cooler.
I try to be good, almost all of my family is good. The golden child of my family is my sister, because she is such a good person. She has always gotten straight A's, has straight hair, thin, nice, and if you ask me, boring.
She's an angel, while I'm the devil disguised as an angel.
Sometimes I forget I'm supposed to pretend to be an angel, I won't deny it. When I do forget, people either hate me, or they love me.
Because who doesn't love a good horror story right?
Somehow, for some reason he knew I was a demon, maybe it's because he is one too and knew how to decipher a bitch.
I remember at one point I thought he would be more attracted to my sister for some reason, I mean everyone I meet eventually ends up loving her more, so I would push him towards her to see.
I remember at one point I told him straight up, "You know I'm not a good person, my sister is though."
He said: "I know, you've got more devil in you than her."
"That's why I like you instead."
My devil was attracted to him and the feeling was mutual, and god, it was amazing to be picked first.
He would help me with my demons and I would help him, we tamed each other. I became a better person because of him. But somehow I become more of a devil at the same time. And somehow I know I made him better too, yet I made him worse.
We balance each other, he is a Libra after all.
I asked two people for a eulogy just last night. One of them was him.
He never gave me one, but he said something that I think gave me a hidden response.
He said: "First off, are you on drugs? And secondly, there is no way of answering that, because it's something that is supposed to leave the deepest part of a person's soul. Knowing or saying what one would say at the time of a loved one dies is somewhat disturbing, it's as if that person were a single replaceable piece to which you would already know what to do when said person dies. So no, something like that cannot be known, much less invented. Stop being so stupid."
I'm not replaceable to him.
He is my inspiration every time I write, every time I type another letter, word or phrase on my phone, everything is about him. Because he is a piece of me, a big piece of me that is nowhere near replaceable and I cannot even begin to imagine my life without him. So I understand if he couldn't think of a eulogy, because I can't think of one for him.
I'm a good writer, as good as 17 year olds can be, and I can think of a eulogy for any person in my life, literally anybody, except for him.
And maybe that's what he was trying to tell me too. Or maybe that's also my way of deluding myself by making myself believe that this man actually cares for me.
I like believing he loves me.
Because he is the meraki of my writing.
