Photoshopped Reality

I worry that it’s out of line, out of your comfort zone, boundary                                                                                                                                                                                                 But I want to, tell you, show you things that don’t come easy to me                                                                                                                                                                                       Baring them would mean that I’m giving you permission to take it all in

Destroy what I am meaning to give to you, handing over those that my hands have reaped, but not sewn                                                                                                               Dissect me, compare and contrast the things that make me tick and what you’re intrigued by                                                                                                                                         Light my way into easy paradise with your sun kissed window                                                                                                                                                                                                   Let me peer through, further depths Inside what one would call soul                                                                                                                                                                                 Heart

I want to know more about you because what I see in your pictures                                                                                                                                                                             Photography only an amateur would want to photoshop, take away from                                                                                                                                                                           Your beauty that radiates without even a red room, red light to reveal the blemishes that only your scars now show                                                                                                     I care about you in ways that I didn’t know I’d come to, stumble upon, across                                                                                                                                                                     Fall into every time we converse

Hi, hello, I don’t even need a conversation with you that goes beyond just a simple salut, hola                                                                                                                                              to feel what I feel, to know what I know and to want what I want with you, from you, by your side

I barely know you, but your writing implements, implies more than I could even begin to tell you                                                                                                                             Please continue to inspire others the way you inspire likeminded individuals and people who feel the need to tell you how they feel regarding your status                                 I cry just knowing that you’re still here, friend or no friend, I see you in a different light and storytelling doesn’t justify me

Dying Travesty

I feel so alone even though I’m not. I’m so dependant on people and I know that I can live without someone , but i just don’t understand how people can jump from one relationship to the other and I’m just sitting here and I cant even date one person.

im too much of a mess, even when I’m solid. when i start to work on myself, I notice things getting better because i allow them to and then someone comes along and i get attached and all they have to do is give me attention.

I feel as though i have attachment issues that may stem from my birth mother not being there and although i had and have parents who have raised me, it’s as though I’m still looking, searching for that something that will fix me, heal me from whatever this void is.

I keep developing these online friendships, relationships, encounter, whatever you want to decipher them as. I go online because I’m a legit computer addict. People don’t take me seriously when I tell them that. they just say “yeah well so am I”. maybe they are, but it’s something I struggle with. I’ve become addicted with the fact that I can be who and whatever I want on here.

I’m me on here, just as i am in person, but it’s easier. I keep convincing myself that im better off dating people online because then I don’t have to get physically attached and I’ll be okay. but it’s worse. it’s really bad.

I don’t know what to do anymore. i have so many things to say, and do. but I’m just thoughts. I don’t know how to put them into physical things.

I want to be social but I don’t like it at the same time because it causes anxiety, and stress. ” am i bothering you? ” ” why are they are looking at me that way? “. those are only a few of the questions that ask myself, not out loud though.

I just want to be okay and happy because ive been there before in a state of happiness.

Am I even alive though? sometimes I ask myself that. I don’t even know what I am if I am breathing. not human, but also not an alien.

Awakened Stamps

When I was a little boy, I was a girl                                                                                                                                                 who enjoyed the presence of dinky cars and                                                                                                                                   ninja turtles pizza shooting toys

Hanging around girls is where you could usually find me                                                                                                           getting excited                                                                                                                                                                               liberated by the thought of people seeing me                                                                                                                               how I felt inside and wondering how I got mixed among the company of the opposite sex

It wasn’t until my hips widened and my given labels made me feel dysphoric                                                                             before I realized what Dysphoric meant                                                                                                                                           that I came to the realization that I was not the stamp that was implanted                                                                                     upon my very being nor did I really fit under one category of personality                                                                                     but too fluid to even have one word to be the definition of

Headcase Turmoil

Burden this, burden that, turmoil I feel creeping up, inside of this shell, headcase headspace I’m here, I’m there, and where you are is where I might want to be, go leave me before I find something, someone within myself

I’m broken, slowly but surely breaking more and more with every shattering confession to the priest that doesn’t exist

And I will not have it other way, but to see to it that you are happy with her, happy with them, with someone other than me, but know that I am in good meaning, good spare

So compare me to what you want, need, think I should be, and what I already am and spot the difference

I am not as full of hate and lust as I should be because those are the feelings I love to experience, just incase you were wondering what kind of fuse you’re working with

Tainted Windows

It scares me how easily someone is able to see through my windows

Especially seeing as how I usually heavily curtain what’s behind them

It frightens me to no end to think that someone could keep my happiness going

When I so much as deprive myself of the positivity

Confined Spaces

I look for you in places where only certain parts of the sun have touched

I find you in spaces that even the moon hasn’t been able to light

I lose you in cities which are unknown to man and beast

I only have myself and nature and maybe that’s okay

Dying to get a taste of life.

sunset

Earlier I was out longboarding, just as usual, nothing different. Just lit a cigarette, had my music playing from my phone and pushed my feet off the ground repeatedly to gain speed.

What surrounded me was the same as it always is around this time of the year. Trees blossoming with pretty flowers, colours blended intogether, mosquitos quenching blood and the fresh sent of fall. I’ve seen the same things aorund me for the past 25 years of my life.

But something felt different, everything looked the same, but they felt different. Was it that I was longboarding a bit later than I usually do, or the the sunset fell later than it normally does, or were the wheels of my longboard slowing down?

Do you ever go somewhere you’ve been numerous times before, nothing physically has changed, but you feel change, like some sort of small aspect has changed your outloud on what you see?

I believe that’s what happened, I started appreciating what I saw in that moment. I saw tiny little aspects, I disected the different colours of the sunset, noticed where the mosquitos and other bugs laid to rest and how settle it made me feel in that moment.

It was as though, my worries, my past didn’t haunt me, but settled me and I felt it. I didn’t feel like dying was the answer, but living was.

Trembling Intentions

You hinted that you wanted inside my head

I smothered you with the warmest temptatons

But scolded you with the cruelest intentions

Words that have not yet reached my trembling vocal chords

You told me that you still wanted to know about me

I took that into my own one hand with a slight flick of the softest wrist

Used my cold hand with a more harsher affect by allowing you to feel the things I’ve done

You still wanted me to show you more

I tried to dig deeper into my vault of nightmares

Ended up opening old wounds just to have you touch them with an ooze of kindness

Running, I started to run, while my body stood still and you looked at me

” Oh child, I want you, need you to let me in ”

Mouth wide, breathing sounds escaped from the space, but no words rolled off my tongue

I knew from that moment that you had seen not what you wanted, but turned the sights into something soft

The song that I am listening to while writing this post:

 

When I was a few months old, I was placed in a foster home with a little boy and his parents, shortly afterwards, those parents had adopted me as their own child. My birth mother, not only was she young, was not able to take care of me aswel as my birth father.

I do not remember how old I was when I was told that I was adopted. I also don’t remember how I reacted on the spot, whether I actually understood what being adopted meant or if I just acted like I understood because as I grew older, maybe around 6 or 7 years old I remember being really angry.

I threw tantrums almost all the time over the littlest things and I remember asking people to call me by the name I was given at birth even though my name had been changed. I assume it was one of the many ways I used to cope with knowing that I had been adopted.

These parents, who are still my parents, who are the only people who actually were there for me through everything and are still here for me, still love me to this very day.

I’ve gone through some hard obstacles in my life, maybe not as ‘bad’ or as worse as some people’s struggles, but I’ve been delt with a very mix and matched sort of hand.

The reason as to why I am writing about being adopted is because even though I had a loving family and still do, I had always wondered what it would be like to meet my birth parents. See if I actually looked like someone instead of just having the same hair colour as one of my brothers, although I didn’t grow up with blood, I inherited similar traits as my adoptive parents. I knew that I didn’t need to know any of my blood relatives. I had met one blood sister who’m I went through phases of denying her as my sister and not. I always wanted a sister growing up, but I just didn’t like her for some reason.

I didn’t want to have to put my name on an adoptive registry just to find my birth mother so I just decided to stop looking. Until one day, I found a picture with my birth sister’s last name from when she was born. We looked our birht mother up on facebook and to both of our surprises, we found her.

I mean anyone can have a dopple ganger, I think that’s what they’re referred to as. So that woman could have been anyone, even now how can one be so sure that the family they get close to and believe are related to them, aren’t you know? The birth sister I knew for the majority of my life not only looked like our birth mother, but her other children looked like the both of us. One of my sisblings I had met actually could pass as my twin sometimes. It’s actually pretty neat.

Now that I’ve grown to know part of my birth family, the mystery of what happened to my birth father still lingers.

Another reason as to why I’m writing this, is because my Niece is getting adopted and as much as it’s going to hurt her mother, (the sister who looks like myself and I look like her), it’s going to hurt me as well. I remember the time I received a phone call about her being brought into this world. The first time I held her, I will never forget.

I haven’t been able to see her often due to many different obstacles, but I get to see her next week hopefully for the last time for the next while because she’s actually getting adopted and although it hurts to see her go, she really won’t be gone, just physically, but taken in by a loving family. She’s grown so much since the time she was brought into this mess of a world, that it amazes me and comforts me at the same time knowing that she’s being placed in th arms of people who will be able to give her everything she needs, on top of that extending the love she has been given by her blood relatives.

I hope to be able to hold a place in her heart and have her be reminded of a part I’ve played in her little life.

I love her so much.

Alone in the depths

Attention is what I seek, also something that tends to destroy me.

It’s as simple as someone stating that they miss me or care about me and I soak that in and twist it as something else. They care about me in a romantic way, they miss me in a romatnic way and in almost every case, it’s the opposite.

Why can’t I just take a friendship for how it is, not what I see it is or wish it were to be.

I can be alone, but I’m miserable alone even when I’m happy alone.