perhaps i’m more of an open person than i previously think. when i’m angry, when i feel i’m in trouble, i tell people what i think, what i feel, i lie about what i think, i lie about what i feel, but i always tell them something. something that might give them clues to what i really feel, what i really think. i rarely tell them things just to get them away from me. i want them to understand. to get closer to me. i open myself up. get in.
i want to just do the right thing. whatever i feel is the right thing. it might not be the right thing. but i want to just do it. whatever i believe is the right thing. i used to do it i think, but then i stopped doing it i think because i was sick of not getting any reward from it, not even what i used to call the gift of being able to walk away with your head held high. i started slouching and feel like death. i was sick of that. i felt i was lying if i held my head high but the heart was rotting inside. but now i’m sick of feeling vindictive towards the world. the world doesn’t give a shit about my vindictiveness either. water off duck’s back. i shouldn’t care so much about what the world thinks anymore. i am the world.