Staying true to post modernity, the reality of our hyper visual evolution, and existentialism, I have accepted and embraced the idea that everything I do is a performance that in itself holds no inherent ontological significance, that judgment is inevitable, and that belief in one's own construction is vital for survival. My world is built by my experiences and relationships, both positive and negative, and i think i know myself well enough to know that this is not right. I will not be happy with you. I have negotiated and sacrificed and adjusted and stood in other people's shoes. I have stood corrected, apologised, accepted responsibility, evaluated, retracted and reflected. I demonised my own ego and committed to improvement on your terms. I set goals. I set timetables. I made a weekly rotation of warm meals, prepared on the Sunday before the work week. I stuck to them. And after all of that, I am not loved by you. I am not considered by you. I am not understood by you. You say you do not want me to change, yet you set me the impossible task of being the kind of woman that you want. You say you don't want to force me, so I willingly accepted the challenge. But then, I am not allowed even once to express resentment or even to be exhausted. Meanwhile, you are allowed to complain. You are allowed to make jokes about my inferior domestic skills, my bad cooking, my subpar housekeeping, all completed, albeit not impeccably, while working in a demanding full time job and an extra part time job given the economic shithouse that is our times. You are allowed to insinuate that I am not enough. Just for one second - have you, for just a single second, ever thought what it might be like to be me? I may not be perfect, selfish even, perhaps even evil and harmful to you. But I ask, have I ever made you feel inadequate for being merely human?
izzy806
gummygunk
amandla
dailybridgerton
prguitarman
theartofmadeline
