When You See Me

Don't be that person. The person who gets hurt when people switch. You are you and I am me. Let them fall out-of lust and like. It happens. Its not you its me. That's what they say. Accept maybe it is you. Maybe not totally-partly. Don't listen to them when they lie and tell you your perfect. Tell you to wait for the person who sees the imperfections as perfect. Maybe that's not what I need. Maybe I don't want you to think my flaws are beautiful. Flaws are flaws. Let's accept what is ugly as ugly. But let's see past the ugliness. But I did-i did wait. I did find you-elusive creature that saw the flaws. Does it matter if you accept the ugly and find beauty somewhere else? Does that create some kind of life balance? The truth is simple really. I don't care about the adjectives. Beauty. Ugly. I want beyond the adjectives. I want you to reach to my core. The inner solitude. Past all the layers of pain and sad-happy all the time-locked in my head pretence. The layers of searching-hoping this time I'll find me. The layers of tears, acceptance, longing for that elusive comfort that I've heard another human can provide.

So when you look at me-my priority is not for the things you see. Physically. Or the ways I push you away. Taunting your emotions but pulling you close. Hoping you'll reach inside and see me and still stay. Its not if I look good naked or I make you laugh. Its that silent acceptance-that when you look at me, you don't see adjectives or pronouns. You see Me.

Not Quite white...Or Black.

Grey. Outside and Inside. My heart-my soul. Yes there's blood pumping through my lungs-my veins-but its all grey. Grey blood. Grey emotions. Grey-undecided-unqualified. Not the solitude of white-or the dark anger of black-just grey. Bland-uninteresting-un feeling. Blood pumps, heart beats. Still more grey.

A smile-a word-a message. A flash of red. Or blue. But temporary, before the grey washes it away. Again. A lie from an artist. They can paint you over. Dress you up inside the way you're dressed outside. Coulourful-interesting-not quite bland. A flash of yellow. Maybe not take away all the grey. Grey goes with many colours. Temporary blues, reds, indigo-yellow-orange-green. Happiness and smiles. Dancing in the rain. A warm colourful glow that comes from within-spreads around. Colours so bright, they can't be contained-they break free from the canvas. How could it ever be so grey. The lie ends. The grey returns. Its almost comforting. Grey.

Not quite white. Or black.

Grey.

AM Ramblings

Delusional. Deluded. I've always thought myself quite rational. But that's what I am. If I met myself, would I like myself? Probably not actually. Its not because I'm not nice. I am-generally. Its not because I'm not funny, or attractive, or smart-all the regular things that people look for in people. I am. But I'm so locked in my head sometimes, that the lines between who I am to me and who I am to other people is extremely blurry. That's just the problem. The fact the I make a distinction between my 'in my head' personality and real life personality. Who am I? I can answer that question in a different way everyday. I guess we are all just a combination of different people. I want to know though. I want to be able to categorically state 'this is who I am'. Sometimes I talk about myself and I think 'this is such crap'. Is this who I am? Really?

Hypocritical. Hypocrite. I feel that way sometimes. I am that person sometimes. I'm so self absorbed, that I don't see that my actions have the ability to hurt other people. I don't think I have that power, but who says its a power. To hurt is not strength, its a fact of life.

Deluded. Delusional. You would think identifying it would be the first step to recovery. Expect. Expectations. Why should I have the right to expect what I don't give. Oh-thats right. I don't have the right.

I think I spend too much time inside my head. I should come out. Sometimes.