During my ups I feel like I can do whatever the fuck I want. I can take on anything. I become such a bad girl. I feel the urge to pump Intensity into my bloodstream. I just want to do something, anything, that will make my senses explode. Shatter my touch! Shatter my taste! Shatter my sight! Shatter my hearing! Shatter my smell! Leave me whimpering for a break, but for heaven’s sake, don’t you stop.
I feel like such an asshole when I distance myself from you guys(loved ones). I don’t think you’ll ever understand that I can’t help this. I’m so sorry. I just hope you know that I really do need you, so please don’t walk out of my life. That’s the problem now.
The more you reach inside yourself for answers the less you tend to seek others for validation. Then, the next thing you know, you’re in a heated conversation with someone whose opinion you use to deeply care about screaming, “Well, I don’t give a fuck what you think!” And actually mean it.
Fight with me. If what I am saying or doing disrupts you in any way, Scream it! No matter how small. Take your frustrations out on me. Make the change in my emotions be your outlet. Never ever feel the need to filter yourself with me. Rain all your heart and soul onto my parade. Then, shove me back into that tiny box you store in the back of your mind, and don’t pull me out until you need me again.
I’m here to tell you that your antics are not funny. I don’t come close to cracking a smile as you poke my weaknesses. I don’t feel getty with joy as you blast my insecurities. I don’t think of heaven when you dance around my sorrow. Honestly, you have the tendency of being the most douchey bastard I’ve ever had to deal with…and yet, here I am relying on you for survival.
You are the carrot dinging in front of me, taunting me with your broken promises. No matter how close I get to reaching your true tenderness, my earthly fingers never seem to brush your surface, and I can sense the divine amusement.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the images and stereotypes that black people tend to portray in the media. Last night I watched Dorothy Dandridge and others in Carmen and once I found out that it wasn’t their voices singing I was a little disapointed. I know then it was acceptable to sing…