Sometimes, I often wonder about how people can always turn to me and use me as a scapegoat for their life problems or whatever. I know that it is quite difficult for people to actually admit that they are in the wrong, or that they did something that led to something else, etc etc. But more often than not, I’m the one who always gets dealt the short end of the stick. I haven’t a clue, and most of the time I just embrace it, and just keep on walking. Most of the time, the people do apologize afterwards as well. I don’t know if it’s the time of person that I am, or if it’s something else, but I’m getting a shorter and shorter fuse when it comes to it.
Don’t get me wrong, I do care about people, and I think I will always continue to put them before me, and deal with their problems before mine. But there is only so much people can take before they snap. I’m not a pin cushion. I’m not one of those blow up clowns that you can smack around in your free time when something’s wrong and you need to get your frustration out. I’m not a fucking doormat. Why can’t people see that? I do have feelings under all of this façade, and most of the time, rarely anyone truly cares. The societies of the world are really fucked up in which the masses always focus upon themselves and that’s all that matters to them. It doesn’t matter who they step on, or that they do, they would do anything to rise up and seize that power… or whatever it is that they want. They forget that there are other people around them, and… that’s quite sad. I wouldn’t step on anyone’s toes, or push people around to get somewhere in life. But again, maybe that’s just me.
I’ve got so much I want to say to people, to people who keep pushing me and pushing me, and I can’t do anything to stop it. I can’t even defend myself. How fucked up is that? And I’m absolutely terrified of saying anything to anyone, because then it would be as if people would have to choose sides, and I would more than likely lose those who mean more than I could possibly process to explain. I often wonder if people do stop and look around, and try to look past the masquerade the some people put on, because that’s all they have, it’s all they cling to. The false ray of hope at the end of the tunnel, when someone slams it shut and laughs at them.
I sicken myself with the fact that… I honestly feel that all I am good for with people is to help them with their problems, to make them feel better, and then they vanish. I feel used, abused, and.. abandoned a lot of the time. It’s a very frustrating feeling, to say the least. I’m so tired of bottling up my emotions, I’m so tired of holding my tongue. There isn’t anything in this world that I wish for more than to just be free of this hell and not be me anymore. I want to stand up, and put people in their place when they try their shit with me. I want to tell them to fuck off, that they are ridiculous and abusive, but no. Again, I’m much more of a pansy to even fathom the possibility of saying what I truly feel.
Kindness is not a weakness, but society has made it seem that way. Maybe I shouldn’t care anymore. Maybe I should make my heart cold as ice, be a bitch, and turn everyone away from me. Goodness knows it wouldn’t make me happy, but I fear that if I did that, I would be far less miserable than I am now. What kind of life is that, though?
I often wonder if I’m just a stepping stone, someone to use or to waste time with until you get to where you want to go, and then it will be a “Tada, got to go. Thanks for keeping me company.”
I often wonder what runs through your head when you continuously point the finger towards everyone else but yourself because you can’t admit that you are wrong. I don’t know what good it does you, it only makes me think that you are a coward. Someone whose ego is out of control and will sink your own ship eventually.
I often wonder how naïve you honestly are. You act a way that I physically didn’t think could be humanly possible. But then again, ignorance is bliss yes? Therefore, you shall continue to ignore every warning sign that you see.
I often wonder if I’m going to wake up one day, and you’ll be gone, and I know that I will have only myself to blame. You deserve far better than I will ever be, and I can only hope that if I am just a measly part in the grand design that you are happy for the time that you are with me, and that I could at least aid in the way of… molding you into the person you want to be, and helping find that person you are truly meant to be with.
I often wonder if my “I love yous” fall on deaf ears.
I often wonder if you’d be better off without me.
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Can’t fathom putting the words I honestly feel onto the screen or this scrap of paper in front of me. Will it ever mean anything? Do I even mean anything? Is everything so insignificant that I’m overlooked, viewed upon as the dirt you walk on? I can say it once, I can say it a thousand times, but does it every fall upon open ears, an open heart, or an open mind? Do you just brush it aside, think I’m cheesy, or actually being sweet?
Je ne sais pas pour vous, mais les sentiments que j'ai pour vous plus forte que j'aie jamais ressentie. Je me sens juste que, parfois, Je ne rentre pas dans votre vie, et que vous finirez par s'en rendre compte. La peur de cela, laisse-moi près paralysé. Mais la façon dont vous me dites que vous m'aimez, même si ce n'est jamais si brièvement, vous me donnez l'espoir que ce qui est réel.
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