I feel like a Dali in a world of Rembrandts
My reality is harder to look at and navigate but poetically whimsical, ironically witty, scathing and poignant, maybe sharp and dirty sometimes.
But the people around me look like a whole friends episode at once which is to say a lot easier for most people to relate to but me. My brain is fuckywucky. I don't choose to daydream, it's my natural state. I have to choose to participate in reality. And the last thing I wanna be is fake, but the last thing anyone wants from me is my authenticity. So I always feel if I don't play my part and be what the other person expects then I am in trouble with someone for some reason. Fawning. Trauma. Idk probably. Anxiety. Why tf do I even care so much idek. But if I dress how I want and talk how I want then I open myself up to judgements and mean people and I just want to be accepted. So I just dissociate the entire day and my memory becomes a black hole then idk who I am again. Til something trips a memory.
So i kinda avoid the whole hassle by being a shut in and doing art. And collecting knowledge for no reason. I could paint for days if I ever had any time. I could probably build a house if I had the resources. I'm not a patient person though. And my job requires lots. I feel like a racehorse on a dog chain constantly. It's so stressful. And people tilt their head at me like I'm the surrealist painting trying to fit in and I'm just standing there waiting for the world to melt away.











