If I concentrate hard enough, dig extra deep, hypnotize myself, and retrieve lost memories that may or may not have happened, I'm sure I could find lots of reasons for why I'm such a jerk. Anyone could, but some people take a higher road, and chose to use their experiences in life to water their harvests of kindness. I'm a good person, I am, but I'm no river of kisses.
The media urges that I be myself, but the media hates jerks more than anyone. That phrase has caused me more confusion than guidance. Like most developing minds, I used to over think problems. "Be yourself", "be yourself", was everywhere, all the time. If everyone in the world needed to be constantly advised of this, then logically, being someone else was a threat worth precaution. Having seen many other humans, and not noticing that they were not themselves, gave me the idea that one's self is a thing not of looks or personality. It must be more internal, like the soul. So, my true self is probably my soul, which is my awareness of myself, and my feelings. Being in the process of defining myself, leaves the awareness of myself part undefined, which left me nothing to define myself by but my hormones. So then I thought and thought about my feelings, and strained my youthful little brain, but there was no identity to be found. Either I was too stupid to find myself, or there was nobody solid to find, or being someone else was not a plague, but has merely been glamorized because it happened to a celebrity that one time. I never figured it out, but eventually found comfort in the decision to only be myself for attention.
I'm not trying to defend my benevolent honor, I'm just trying to fill out this blog. There's nothing to defend, I haven't done anything that I care about. To quote a song that I wrote, but never produced, "I'm not a runner. I'm not a driver. When I get high, I walk away." There's other lyrics that are easy to guess, but the moral is whatever. I have no agenda, I've got nowhere to be. I like positivity, it's good, I like good things. I'm no more negative than I am everything else, but in this new world where negativity is dropping our children like flies, it stands out. It labels me. Oh no!!
Sarcasm numbs the pain. The last time I kept it real, someone laughed at me. I'm sensitive. So sensitive, that I've had to restrict myself from indulging in the stronger stuff. My system can't handle it. I'm cut off. I used to cut myself, until I was teased for it. Never again.
I try not to personalize too much. It's empowering to suspect that everything has me in mind, but I've been down the paranoia slide before, and it gets scary fast. My sensitivity isn't what makes me a jerk, it's yours. This is about you now. You'll read anything. I'm sorry.
The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I don't know you, but you're alright by me. If I ignored you it was only because I was busy with every other stranger on the internet. Internetting is hard.
I hope you enjoyed visiting my blog, and thank you for hanging in there so far. I enjoyed writing it. If you were misled to believe that your kindness would be returned in the form of views to your own pieces of work, my apologies, fellow blogger. Favors that expect favors in reward are no favors at all. My honesty will save you from wasting further effort, but alas, again, I'm a jerk. I'm writing, not reading. I know that means a lot less likes, but they'll be earned, not bartered. I post with dreams of views, not devious schemes of pleasantry.
A famous actor once said, "Shit on my dick, or piss on my balls." It's the worst thing that I've ever heard in my entire life. Why it stuck with me wasn't the words, but how he just came out and said them. Save yourself from embarrassment, and risk that you die unsatisfied. Never be afraid to be yourself. Those who don't love you don't matter.
I'm the kind of girl who posts a blog, and then accuses you of being selfish for clicking onto it. Confusing right? Have some sympathy. I've been spiritually lost since the moment I discovered it as an option. I'm pouring out my heart and soul because I don't understand their value. I think it's funny. The consequences will be startling.
If I could be anyone on Earth, it'd be whoever's happiest. I wonder who they're being. Probably a clam. There's surgeries to make you beautiful on the inside, and I assume they're clam related, for females at least. It's a trending controversy. If you're not going to share this blog, consider spreading your clam awareness. It's the right thing to do for clams. Just take a few minutes out of every day, it could really make a difference. I can't because I'm a jerk. The clams are in your hands...
http://princessgarbageface.blogspot.com/2016/03/emily-everychild-precautionary-tale.html
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