| i take comfort in the idea that no one reads this anymore. but also hope in the idea that someone might stumble across it. as of right now, i have several things that i would like to get out there, somewhere...maybe they'll be understood.
i want to delete my myspace. desperately. or, at least, just filter out the things i hate about it. i can't help but laugh when i see people with crazy-huge friends lists, leaving comments about the lip ring of the other person, or how cute the other person is, how adorable, how beautiful, etc. i don't want that kind of attention. i'm glad i don't get it. i take pride in the fact that i keep things on myspace relatively boring, thank you. i keep the people i know in real life on it, with the exception of selected musical artists, and maybe one or two other people, who i have spent enough time conversing with to know that i can keep them on my page. other than that, i'm not like the rest of the myspacewhores, and thank god for it. i really want to delete it. i really want to delete it. i really want to delete it because i know that i'm not one to succumb to the myspace hysteria. but sickeningly enough, it takes some kind of emotional leap to just shut the fucking thing down.
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with that out of the way, i'm onto the next bit of...ugh. i hate that i forget words lately. and that i don't have intelligent conversation face to face with people anymore. i'm lacking a dimension i once had at the forefront of my personality, and this half-ass prose is all i've got to show. look, i've got something real. in a time and day and age where there's all this pressure on girls my age to be thin and pretty and rich and loved by many, i feel i've got something that not many others have. i have insight. i have a level head. ...i've got a leg up on the rest of them, and i'm still treated as the rest of them.
i still have boys calling, asking 'are you still a virgin?' and 'why haven't we hooked up yet, kate?' ...i still have my myspace, my virginity, and i still fight with my mother over things that don't seem all that significant. i'm still punished like a fifteen year old, and though on the brink of alleged adulthood, i'm still living the life of someone much younger. my father tells me his concerns for my weight, i'm still under that pressure. i don't impress my parents, i only seem to disappoint. i'm still recognized for my shortcomings, not for my excellence. i'm still mediocre. i'm still just like the rest of them. i'm still seventeen, and i seem to be the only person that doesn't want to admit it.
despite these things, i'm more genuine and more realistic and more down to earth than almost anyone my age i've encountered. i have the capability to do things i know that others couldn't. not if they gave their life trying. ...ironically enough, i am normal. i am mediocre. ...but i'm not the mediocre kind of mediocre. i wish that there were more people that saw that in me.
i'm not devastatingly gorgeous. i'm pretty. i'm not thin, by any means, though i'm not overweight. there are too many improvments to be made. i'm ridiculously intelligent. i'm not arrogant, i'm honest. not modest. there are too many improvements to be made. but jesusfuckingchristalmighty, i could be the best damn thing that ever happened to some people, if they'd only stop and let me be just that.
patience hasn't ever been my thing. |
