Me — i.e, jpenseur

I think about other people's pains and struggles and it just makes me so sad. The world is not equal, that's a truth that's hard for me to swallow. 

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Me — i.e, jpenseur
Something I've been scared of confronting is the possible idea that I'm never to have ambition. As of now, I've convinced myself and others I have big plans, but I know in the back of my head how dishonest I'm being. I guess it's easier to be vague than to say you don't have dreams, right? In my world, motivation thus far, has only been to save face. I feel like I have never strived for anything substantial or adding value. It upsets me that I'm at this crossroads of not knowing, and not caring. I just want a bit more direction, to find at least one thing that sets me up for good. 
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When someone tells you to open the door.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
I always hold myself back because I fear criticism; I fear that people can sometimes be unforgiving of incompetency. I fear that people will not allow me to learn and simply replace me. Today I had a conversation with an industry professional; they shared a snapshot of a time when they felt insecure about their inability to perform. They mentioned that we are conditioned to shame ourselves when we don't know something. It was asserted that we need to tear that social construct down because it's not realistic to know one hundred percent of everything. When you are in the field, you'll be surprised by how eager and willing people are to help you grow your personal and professional identity. Today, I felt that my perspective has grown for the better. I'm going to try to open up more doors for myself. 
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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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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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Why does this bother you?

Me — i.e, jpenseur
When you can't look at poverty or even tolerate it, is that not privilege? Nothing can change my mind. I don't see 'being triggered' as a valid reason not to accept reality. Poverty exists even when you're living in your middle-class home in Canada. 
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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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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My life in some attempt of summation.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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