be strong all the time.
I am allowed a few melt downs.
I cannot always find that determination that kept me afloat on those past horrible days.
Sometimes, I just CAN'T reach it. Or find it.
Sometimes, I will let the pain and the sadness and the sheer load that life can sometimes be, show in my eyes.
And I apologise if that scares you.
If the realisation that I too can get overwhelmed, frightens you, I apologise. For feeling.
For not masking yet another shitty 72 hours at the back of an already crowded room of masks and pretences.
Maybe tomorrow,
Maybe next week,
Or next month,
I will wake up one morning and shoosh the shadows to their hiding place. Maybe.
Not now. The strength to pull the actress mask on for you, I do not have.
be cheery, smiley and bubbly.
Because first of all, that is totally unnatutal.
Extremely.
And maybe I have myself to blame. For showing you and the rest of the world what you want to see. Maybe it's on me-that less than 5 of the people in my world don't judge me on the days I don't have any filled-with-wit-and-sarcasm come-backs to any of the conversations going on.
Sometimes, it's because my witty self has been clouded and taken over by my sad self who if you read the previous paragraph, rightfully deserves the lead position once in a while.
Sometimes, it's because I DON'T have anything to say. It happens.
More than anyone could even begin to imagine.
The truth is I am more comfortable with my own silence.
I am extremely picky about the people I spend time with.
I adore my friends. Especially the ones who know when to not push chat sessions that have already gone too far.
Or insist on getting the words out on my silent days.
I am dreadfully shy and realised years ago, that people will term you proud, aloof and arrogant for loving your space.
The idiot I was then, turned to bubbly-ness in desperate attempts to be normal.
I didn't like being called proud. Or arrogant.
The lesser idiot that is typing this is done trying.
I am...me.
My best friends have not been made or found at the loudest parties. They didn't meet me at my most "alive-ness"
It was in those rare silences. On the don't-have-anything-to-say days.
It was at the time when those I thought knew me disappeared.
They went away- they couldn't deal with silent me. Maybe they'd drop by tomorrow.
Stay if they found the me they wanted.
The me that suited their selfish, shockingly ignorant and awesomely hypocritical egos, ego-esses, and insecurities.
I am NOT responsible for anyone's happiness.
I am not ordained in the-making-everyone-smile-every-day profession.
I am not a plastic doll. That means that who I am today might not make it to tomorrow.
It also means that yesterday's smile might not be here today.
The laughing eyes might be minus-expression in the next hour.
I am not going to be the buffer that brightens everyone's crappy days.
Let my frown be.
It has more claim to my face than any of the fake smiles I've been wearing for people who will not smile for me on the days I can't find the sun.
The me today has not even a single fear of any all labels anti-social.
Find you own smiles, for fuck's sake.
