“If I could change the world; mould it to my own design, then I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be the world anymore. What it is and what I want it to be are two very separate ideas and they can never be truly one.”
I feel like a liar.
Not to say that I’ve been lieing, but I have been compromising who I am.
I spent majority of the past two years alone and I never realised the affect that it had on me. I never saw myself through everyone else’s eyes.
I’m narcissistic and self-righteous, I want what I want when I want it and I’m boisterous enough to tell people that. I’m cold-hearted, I lack empathy or sympathy and I’m pretty sure my own mind works against me when I feel sad. I have little or no belief in anything or anyone. I’m paranoid and I believe it’s survival of the fittest by any means necessary.
I’m not sure if these are natural attributes that have just become recognisable over time but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t this blinded before my isolation.
In my time alone, when I worked and I studied and I did anything I could to get ahead and prove everybody wrong, I forgot what it was that I really wanted to do it. I’d forgotten what I had spent my whole life doing, and that was telling stories.
Take it from me, someone who can blatantly with a smile on their face, stories are my forte. They twist and wind around my mind with barely decipherable plots that boggle even myself sometimes, but those are the stories that have grown over years of observation.
I’d forgotten in my haste to prove myself to others that I am just one person and that others will not always bend to my will. I can ask them, persuade them or even try to blackmail them, but whatever it comes down to I know that this, in itself, was my world that I was trying to pull others into.
Strong-willed and emotionally decrepit is who I am now, and I’m not so sure that I can find my way back to who I used to be.
I want to be the brave person I always thought I was. I want to fight the battles of the world the way I always have: with words and pictures and sound.
I want to prove to myself that I still know who I am, that the things that used to always matter to me, still do. I want to prove that my heart isn’t as cold as it’s sometimes percieved to be. I want to prove that I’m human, and that I feel that way too.
I’m confused and wondering how on earth I got here.
I love who I love.
I write what I write.
I am who I am.
I can’t change this but I can change my perception of the world I live in. I can fight oppression and I can bring people to their knees in a way that doesn’t leave my morals to suffer.
I am strong and I am brave.
I am an 18-year-old Media Arts student from the University of Canberra. I sometimes lock myself out of my room and I always find myself flustered in attractive company. I like women but have a certain soft spot for attractive, polite men. I am feminine and I can still appear that way even when sweaty and bruised from learning MMA. I am genderqueer and I’m learning to accept it, no matter what it takes.
I am who I am, and just to be sure, I’m going to check myself in the mirror.
This blog doesn’t say much to you, probably, but it says a lot to me. My own personal review of the way my life twists and turns without my direction from myself. I hope I don’t bore people because I know that sometimes, I even bore myself.
Confused and cornered but a little bit more graceful in defeat…
- Cal.
Tip toe-ing softly, nobody can hear
Crouched and waiting…
Are you watching me?
Watching me, watching you…
Hidden but sure.
Just to be sure.
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