"Be unassuming. Otherwise, you'll cry."

Fleeting truths in my head.

Me — i.e, jpenseur



I feel obligated to say I'm feeling "alright" in my moments of vulnerability because I don't feel secure enough to tell you I'm lonely. To tell you I have issues, that my soul feels unsettled, and that you made a mistake. 

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The Narcissist

Me — i.e, jpenseur
Hindsight, what horrible person that was. I was so overwhelmed by the disapproval that I let this person chip away at my sense of self-worth. I don't care if you hate me or is disapproving of me. I don't see much value in your person either. I was a fool for thinking your opinions of me carried more weight than my opinions of you. You were despicable. All that pain you caused me, I wish for you to feel it all. All those looks of despise and those loud booming moments of silence, feel it all. That persistent feeling of questioning your sanity, feel all of that as well. I think maybe the reason why it's hard for me hate people is I was making room for people who really deserve it. I think you deserve it. A slow agonizing burn. I often imagine how you probably felt powerful emotionally abusing me; stonewalling me. I fell into it because of hope. A bait you meticulously placed in the trap made of your narcissism. People say that, time will heal, time will make you forget. Maybe...
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I have people around me who bring nothing to the table; I think more and more that their company is simply a waste of time. I shouldn't say that, but that's how I think. When I'm around them, I just feel absolutely nothing. The conversation is not stimulating. There's no sort of progression; it's dull throughout. Their interests are so small in scope that it's hardly palatable. They are so concentrated on what they know they've become exclusive. So dull; I think I knew that for quite a while, but these bursts of loneliness cast such a big shadow that it made me stop realizing it. 
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My life in some attempt of summation.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
My life in some attempt of summation, has been the lack of space. A safe space to be deep, intellectual, vulnerable. I think subcontiously, that's why I started writing. It's easier to feel when I'm not calculating. When I'm raw, and entirely honest. I can hate without feeling like I shouldn't. I can be passionate without being too much. It's like a personal study or library where I'm free to scream on top of my lungs. I can be everything. Guarded and powerful. Hopeful and cynical. Logical and emotional. My life in some attempt of summation. 
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Chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
Whenever I see you, I'm called to do more and to be more in order to somehow pique your interest. To make you think that I'm a basket worth all your eggs. When we interact, it just feels so smooth and effortless, and I don't feel drained after conversations. When you speak, I can't help but admire you. I make an effort to listen even when my attention span is less than desirable; the net benefit for me just feels worth it. When you act all goofy, I want to just cover you in my arms. I daydream about how warm you would make me feel. I so deeply want to run my fingers along your hair and just take time to show you my affection. How wonderful would it be to be together? These, of course, are all just unrealistic desires. I know I can't be with you. There's just too great of a chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be. I do, however, appreciate that I can dream. 
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