People

People can be such a bitch. It is so easy for some of those talented talkers to find something about you to needle at. No shoes. Yep. No fucking shoes, and it's raining. There is no sympathy in that statement. It is just that, a statement, and no more. Life has no sympathy, rain is what you asked for, but not in your slippers. Footprints that follow my step, mud, conforming to the contours of the pedestrian vehicle. That's my mark. I am the girl without shoes. Life can be such a bitch.

This morning I had no time to be living, to sleep, to breathe, to find my converse, and kick out the door. Instead, I was sluggish, and shoeless, self concious. Obsessed with mistakes of the past, things that nobody could fix. Perhaps it is as they say. Things happen as they are meant to happen, all of this to teach me a lesson; the significance of which I can't even fathom until all is dead and gone, and I, ragged. Shoeless, cold, shivering in my own rage, self pity, and human humilliation.

Read me a symphony, sing my life backwards. I want nothing more than any needy human; to feel loved and understood.

I want to overcome my jealousy, overcome my obsessiveness. I want to triumph over evil. I hate fearing it is myself. I fall into submission, to life, to all worth living, all that makes it so hard to justify continuing sometimes. I want to get past this feeble minded phase, to awake into myself, to feel I'm in the right place.

It isn't like I'm the only one who feels this way, who fears these things, who gives in to hate-- hatred of self and people less than hatred of the situation.

I need to get situated in this skin of mine, that still doesn't fit me after 16 years. I can't stretch and be satisfied. I need more room, I need a safe place to hide. But, I can't.