Lindsay

Brighter days where,

I think I’m more shallow than I thought,

I cannot hold a stable sentence,

I don’t use proper grammar,

I’m better to speak to on pen and paper,

Ask me what I think and wait for me to generate, take inspo, and to find the answer that holds the greater majority.

Shallow but not hollow,

Those days

When my hands were tied —

Thinkin’ was suicide!

Close your eyes, you’d be

Ice skates, snow, icy breeze, buried in layers—

I am lost!

My dad reminded me that I am my own person,

And I felt embarrassed to have forgotten that.

It’s okay to outgrow things and people,

It feels odd to outgrow the life you’ve only ever known—

It feels criminal!

But what can I do,

I cannot avoid that truth forever—

May the new things come, and I will always wish for the old to follow.

Without the old i’d feel so hollow—

My biggest wonder is how I’d look back at it all,

My biggest fear would be having nothing to look back on at all.

—

I can contradict myself a lot,

I think that’s the most honest I can be to myself and others— and that’s the most honest I can live my life.

To admit that I know nothing,

To act like I know everything,

To try and learn everything—

And still know nothing;

To never have a strong opinion,

To feel repulsed by something that FEELS wrong,

To believe in both sides,

To do the opposite of what I say.

—

Maybe I’ve got it all wrong,

Maybe I’ve been right all along

—

At work, we did a gratitude activity where I made a card sharing what I was grateful for in the morning, evening and then what was a healthy boundary I wanted to try setting more often.

Morning:

I’m grateful that every new day is a clean slate, and that I have a chance to start over and to be different from yesterday.

Evening:

I’m grateful that I live a still and quiet life when I know that many live differently and or worse than me. And I am so grateful to have a bed to rest in and wake up in.

—

I’m grateful for the opportunities I don’t give a second thought to taking— (Lady Contradict)

It never feels fair to take something for my own.

Everything I’ll ever have must be shared,

And every decision I make must consider someone else, and to prioritize them more than myself.

(Wrong but feels right: Knowing it shouldn’t be that way but can’t help to find the results of continuing more valuable than the truth)

—

I call myself a selfish person,

Only because I know I truly want very selfish things for myself—

And my acts of selflessness feel dishonest and cruel more than kind and genuine.

—

It’s not entirely true that I always feel this way,

But every day I feel more forced to be everything I am not for the benefit of somebody else—

And it is me doing this all to myself in the end.

It’s easy to believe you’re a victim of something,

It’s unbelievably easier to admit that you’re the real and evil perpetrator of it all after all,

Because at least self awareness is a step,

And holding yourself accountable is just a step higher than being a step below —

And that makes people happier than it would for them to pity you.

But in truth,

It doesn’t change anything.

I know what I have to say to get you off my back,

And I know what I have to tell myself to brush it off like it’s not the biggest scheme in psychology, sociology, and humanity!

—

And Sike I don’t mean any of this, it’s the music and the cold wind and my inability to jump and twirl on the ice and I miss Lana Abby and lani and when we would talk

And I want him—

Sooo bad oh it kills!

Cause I know that I’m a mess

that he don’t wanna

Sleeping on the sofa,