Confidence, that’s what they called it. The way you illustrate yourself, the way you present yourself, the manner in which you walk about shoulders high with giving little or no value to the opinions of those who surround you. 
They called it confidence, but what they really meant was the acceptance of unfathomable ideas. Like accepting death just as you would accept life. 
What they meant to say was accepting that the longer you walk, the less distance you travel, the harder you run the slower you go. 
Accepting that it’s never how much effort you put in, but how much gift you were born with. 
And how we’re all just toys in someone else’s twisted game, each of us playing for the gold. 
But what is the gold? 
And who gets the gold? 
Certainly not I, for I am nothing but a waste of energy, space and time. 

Diamond

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It was priceless to me, you’re words. You’re precious way of thinking, you’re mysterious train of thought. It was of gold to me, rare but priceless, your words. It’s not the pain or happiness they inflict, but the value of each and every sound you enunciate. Leaving the air between us empty is a waste of time, energy and space. And If I could read your mind for one second, just one second; all my questions would be answered. All my questions about everyone, about everything, about myself... An opinion seems to be nothing but stone, but yours was all diamond... nothing but diamond.

Fully aware that days without you were no longer days, but hours of timeless in-existence until I saw your bright smile again and revived myself from the slumber in which my eyes are open but my heart is closed.
My days are gone, your days are gone, our days are gone.
But what are days?
What is you?
What is I? 
And I question the truth yet ignore the lies because I am naive. Naive to the extent in which I clung to your every word.
In a vain attempt at security.
In a pathetic search for love.
I found love and it's lack of beauty bothered me. The way it turned my insides out. The way it gave me sleepless nights. And I wonder sometimes how I could catch such a disease and suffer in misery while watching you smirk in delight as I try to awaken fro my slumber from my deep slumber my perpetual in-existence that is seen through your eyes...


And I lost myself. Or found what I should have lost. While watching myself sink deeper into the hole of perpetual in-existence and watching myself sell my soul away, not to the devil but to his mere followers who crawl behind him like paralysed sheep in a vain attempt to earn his acceptance. And maybe people’s influential abilities are not determined by their strength but by my weakness. Maybe I never really lost myself, but I didn't have a self to begin with, and seldom did I ever seek to find one identity, but in turn I allowed myself to be sucked into the closest vortex around me. I always changed who I am. And maybe that is because I am not. Maybe it is because I am absolutely nothing but a mirror of what I wish to be.

I always imagined if life was every man for himself. Like wild animals. If we all scavourged the amazon in search of food and shelter, killing anyone in our way. Or if we swam like sharks, eating smaller fish. Smaller versions of ourselves.I guess we always had that instinct in us. As civilized as we try to be, despite our efforts to be wise intelligent beings. We are nothing but uncivilized creatures. Shaped and molded from birth by society. Believing anything they tell us. Following orders because there are consequences, not because we care. So what are we? Are we caring beings with hearts of gold or are we nothing but noble savages..?


They say people never change, that we just grow up. They say that people never forget their old habits. They say that no matter how much you try you will always be THAT GIRL or THAT GUY. Sometimes it’s harder for me to see myself under a different light, or see myself as different to what I am now. Not realizing that bit by bit I’ve become that monster I once despised. And I’ve tried. To see myself not only differently but equally. Equal to the girl who sits at the front of the class, equal to that beautiful stage dancer, equal to that model on the cover of a magazine, equal to the girl next door with the long curly blond hair. But while closing my eyes and entering this year with a smile erased from my face, and with the golden light of my heart dimmed to a dark shade a gray. I walk into this traumatic year the demon I subconsciously always wanted to be.


A bitter sweet kiss. That’s all it took. Bitter because it was wrong, yet sweet because it was with him. Forgiveness is hardest to obtain. It takes a bowl of love, a pinch of history and a generous topping of trust. Being honest can only take you so far though. And I know I’ve reached that limit. I’m out of second chances. What someone doesn’t know can’t hurt them...Or can it? This was deep, even for me. Maybe it was the push. Maybe it was the bitter sweet taste of his lips; maybe it was my old shallow state of mind finally being put to rest. Because that taste, that jolt. And he puts me deeper under his spell. And suddenly it occurs to me how weak I truly am. 

Envy

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You could say that I envied her. Her perfect teeth, glamorous body. You could say that I was vulnerable to the subtle lies of men. Not as she. You could say that I was a grade more oblivious then her, then anybody really. You could even say that I wasn't seen under the same light as she. Not as if my mother's constant need for comparison didn't make me feel any worse, but her mother's lack of it made it almost illicit for me to see her as anything but superior to what I could ever imagine myself being. You could say that she was sure of herself. And you could see how I envied her for her assurance. So yes, you wouldn't just say that I envied her, but you would believe it. Lest did I know that surety was far from her heart, how her only true breathtaking attribute was her ability to conceal. The beautiful mask she wore, of a strong independent, sure young lady. The day she took it off, I will never forget...

I guess this is me.. in words.

So I guess I have a lot of thoughts and it's kind of hard to put them all together. I'm almost 16 years old and I go to high school. But if you think this is going to be one of those cheesy "omg hes sooooooo cute!" type of blogs. Yeah I know I'm young, these feelings are all hormone crazed teenager feelings but I can assure you I won't present it to you in a manner so uncivil. All these posts in one way or another piece together into a story. My story. But remember, things aren't always black and white like they seem to be.
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