A trip to the desert and back. My head pounds from the lack of sleep, laxc of nutrition, lack of excercise. Not the lack of connections, though, where I did not foresee them.
The cousin always on the outskirts. The sibling I could not connect with. The family I could not understand. The messages I missed and the warninhs I pushed righht past.
Until now, did I ever wonder why.
I’m beginning to comprehend pieces of the past that were concealed to me. Beginning to see the pieces of myself that came from these half-told truths and well-pushed-down lies. These little incoherencies that started to define these uglier aspects of me.
Until now, there was no way to know.
I no longer wonder at my hatred of dishonesty, manipulations, deceit. I have, for so long, tried to conceal his. But why? Because I was inadvertantly taught that nobody will love the you inside yourself. This only applies if I keep myself hidden under blankets and falsities that make me appear to fit into their controlling societies.
If I stand on what I stand for, then the world will take me for what I am. And if I find myself alone at the end of that road, then so be it. It’s better than these stagnant, infexted pools of self-degradation and regret.
I’d rather be offensive versus fake.