In this life I am not aiming to be liked by strangers. I’m not aiming to be well known. But I do aim to be remembered and loved. Do not judge me for what you see on the internet. I explain myself poorly and get angry easily. I stand up against cruel behavior against anything whether it is verbal attacks or harming another creature. In so many words, that you will never understand I’ve already told you to shut the fuck up a least once in our ‘friendship’. Unless of course we are so similar that our similarities are telling each other to fuck off.
In no way has my last paragraph wanted me to tell you to fuck off. If you’ve known me for a year or more or have talked to me on the phone or through web cam you’ve already judged me in your own right. I do not go around wanting to be hated for the words I say. I say them because more times than not, I do not even think before speaking. It’s a flaw. It’s what makes me human. You could judge me but the red blood that pours from your wounds also comes out of my own. I would rather cut myself than to hurt a friend. I listen and rarely talk. But when I do talk either I make a point or I insert foot into mouth. It’s that simple for now.
I seek to be understood and to have someone listen for a change instead of talking about themselves. When I’m quite it doesn’t mean I’m mad. It doesn’t mean I do not want to talk to you. It’s more likely that I’m over analyzing something. In reality it would take me a long time to order from a Burger King menu if I wasn’t so boring and ordered the same 2 things all the time.
I’m new to the world although I’ve lived in it for many years. It takes a lot to open my eyes. When my mother passed I felt as if my soul was ripped from my body and I had to become a wizard to magically piece them all together. I’m not even 1% finished. I cannot find my way or a path to put my feet upon. I cannot walk with you as many of you have already passed through and onto your own journey. I sit and I think. I think and then I get angry and then that anger festers in a part of me that’s broken and brittle.
I’m lost but I want to fight. I want to fight for those who have no words, that have no way to put them together. I want to fight for those being bullied and hated on because they happen to be gay or transgendered. Or those made a simple mistake and are paying for it with their young lives. I want to be-
To simply be me: to know how I laughed so freely and didn’t care how oddly I sound or how crazy things may seemed. I want to be that woman that didn’t care if I offended a friend because I always felt we would come to talk to and we’d laugh about something else moments later.
I want to be known as a writer that entertained people with lavish stories. These seem to be like memories as I get told of things I’m something I’m simply not. I know who I am or what I was but I stay silent in mourning listening to voices say I’m this or that. I forget but trying not to forget my own laughter or how I made people feel.
I want to reach out to a hand and hold on, but I feel ashamed. Will this hurt stop or can it be tamed? Will I stop caring how others perceive me when I rarely talk to them unless some drama is ensued? Perhaps in the coming New Year those like I and others on the same road will be able to figure out what we’ve been fighting for. How we lost our voice and the soul that nestles inside our human hearts. Maybe we can draw strength to become that wizard and find our soul again. Or perhaps it’s not lost at all!?