There are many secrets that we cant share with anyone but ourselves. Secret desires, hidden truths, unacceptable flaws, things you cant share even with your friends, who will not judge you. There are sides to me which don't come in the definition of good, but I need to ignore them or keep them hidden. Because once revealed, I will lose my place in the category of nice, which I hold on to with my dear life.
I try to view myself in the most simple fashion, I keep complications at bay, I avoid grey areas with a watchful eye and stick to the white side. Holding my tongue, because I know those words will be a little too harsh and wrong. Everyone has flaws, an ugly side which no amount of understanding can ever accept, except by your own self.
Of late I am beginning to feel my age, there is a heaviness which remains constantly. The giddy feeling of being on the edge of my skin is going. I feel firmly within my skin, a little too comfortable. I am beginning to own my own. This scares me, I am not ready for the next stage of life, I want my youth to remain. There are so many things I want to do, so many worries, I want to be able to worry about. I want to feel uncomfortable, to feel thin skinned again. I want small events to mean more to me again. I am not ready to be content thirty year old, not yet. I want my desires, I want my stupidity, they made me feel each day.
Time does fly away quickly, I hardly can feel how the last four years of working have passed. I cant account for the days, for the years. My resume will tell you where I was, but I cant tell you what I was doing, let alone where am I headed. Every time I talk to my family, I feel I should be more in charge, knowing exactly the plan by now, being a pillar of support. But I have hardly ever wandered off the beaten path, to give up that option of going down the unknown. I have always chased certainty, at the cost of ever finding the secluded path. Always scared of what next, happy to be at step two, for too long.
I am not ready.
I try to view myself in the most simple fashion, I keep complications at bay, I avoid grey areas with a watchful eye and stick to the white side. Holding my tongue, because I know those words will be a little too harsh and wrong. Everyone has flaws, an ugly side which no amount of understanding can ever accept, except by your own self.
Of late I am beginning to feel my age, there is a heaviness which remains constantly. The giddy feeling of being on the edge of my skin is going. I feel firmly within my skin, a little too comfortable. I am beginning to own my own. This scares me, I am not ready for the next stage of life, I want my youth to remain. There are so many things I want to do, so many worries, I want to be able to worry about. I want to feel uncomfortable, to feel thin skinned again. I want small events to mean more to me again. I am not ready to be content thirty year old, not yet. I want my desires, I want my stupidity, they made me feel each day.
Time does fly away quickly, I hardly can feel how the last four years of working have passed. I cant account for the days, for the years. My resume will tell you where I was, but I cant tell you what I was doing, let alone where am I headed. Every time I talk to my family, I feel I should be more in charge, knowing exactly the plan by now, being a pillar of support. But I have hardly ever wandered off the beaten path, to give up that option of going down the unknown. I have always chased certainty, at the cost of ever finding the secluded path. Always scared of what next, happy to be at step two, for too long.
I am not ready.
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