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duromine

Raz

Bluelighter
Joined
Aug 11, 2002
Messages
7,329
Location
In an igloo made of asbestos and chicken-wire.
being sad would be something
but this void makes me cry
because i've lost it all
i had an identity
and i had self loathing
and i had more than the memories of what it was like to be me
but my heart is failing
and my mind doesn't work
and my soul doesn't know whether it's all been worth it
i look at them now
gym bodies and perfect lives
and i remember when i wanted that
but i'm getting there
i'm making myself one of them
i'm turning myself around
i'm fitting in
and all i had to give up
was me.
(..umm, I dunno whether any of that was any good..I just needed to vent a bit really. When you're 16 they call that teen angst. 10 years later I'm scared to give it a name...)
 
the reality of perfection stains our every move, and we watch as the power is liften on pedistals to those beautys and muscles on men make them strong, when does the womans hips gain honest reval of a mothers strength and the gray hair and pot belly show the love of a father? In all this those of us inbetween left to the striving for attractiveness to others in a show of nothing but outer displays. My mind a fortress I keep hiden , hoping afraid that the whole package may be unecessary ~~~
blahhh
anyway I think its fustrating ex. if you go to parties where there are lots of skinny/ buff people, well they do drugs some of them and that helps that out. but im not fat , at all but im not perfect, and i get fustrated with people only talking to me cause of my looks. so for about a year I wore a long dress shirt and a tie . and no one talked to me, it was funny!
blahh
good poem
 
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