My days are like waiting in line at an amusement park, stagnant and anxious. My emotions going wild when i actually get on the ride, one that seems to go on for days most of the time. I feel depression and intense emotion has opened my eyes and mind to the bone shaking reality of the world, making me a complete and utter pessimist. Now, I know that most likely sounds ridiculous for a twenty year old to say but I believe it with every ounce of my being.
Everyday I see people. I see their eyes, I see the clothes they put on trying to look nice for others, the make up and the hair, I see their true intentions. I've always been a good people reader, always. I can see someone for the first time and tell you the exact type of person they are, how they'll treat you, the outcome of your relationship, and I'm rarely wrong. The only exception are instances when I've been blinded by petty feelings and attraction, which all in due time have proven to be fleeting. If I don't have an opinion on the individual it's often because they're so horrible of a person that I've deemed them insignificant in my mind. I've learned to watch my own back, because everyone else is watching theirs, no matter what they tell you. I guess what I'm trying to say is people are mainly concerned with themselves, a shocking reality right? (barely)
I'm fairly intelligent. I can understand worrying about yourself, watching out for your well being, protecting yourself and securing your place in this world. But, what I've yet to grasp is how and why we as human beings must, and I mean must, entangle and use others along the way without regard of their emotions or the outcome it may have on them. It's almost like we're horses pulling a carriage down a busy street, only capable of looking ahead due to blinders we can't take off no matter how hard we try. The mind set on one goal, to feel complete satisfaction with ones self. I'm not claiming that I haven't stabbed a few backs or taken a few low blows in my short twenty years on this planet, but what I am saying is that I've been conscious about it. I've been fully aware of my actions when it comes to important moments and what the outcome of those actions will be; and the choices I've made have been chosen because I weighed my options thoroughly and with precision. (The perks of being an over thinker i suppose.)
At night I lie in bed and think of those who've done me wrong, remembering every detail of their offense and I can't seem to point the blame on anyone but myself. "It was something I did! I wasn't attractive enough, I was too cold, clingy, ignorant, too blind." But I'm starting to realize it was never me....in almost every instance I was the best version of myself I could be at the time. It was the offenders who effortlessly undermined me, my emotions, and how I might feel all because they were concerned about themselves. Maybe I just put too much faith in people, clinging to the hope that they're considering me when the final swing of the hammer takes place. Maybe I'm just like everyone else, but for the sake of sanity I sure as hell hope I'm not.