Insecure
heyy heyy
Insecurity is a funny thing. It is claimed by almost everyone. Some tend to wear it well, donning it only when they feel dumb being proud. Some people pull off pride well. And some look dumb donning pride.
There has to be some kind of line, some kind of space, somewhere healthy to occupy between the two.
Also, ...insecurity shouldn't be fabricated. Some people spend so much time just saying "How am I? How am I? How am I?" (redundantly, like that) simply to hear praise.
Sometimes i wonder if i'm subconsciously doing that, or doing it out of habit... or both.
But sometimes i really don't know.
I think i've been spoiled in that i've always been told i was good. I've always been led to think i had such a great voice.
But... I'm not so sure that's case. I mean, maybe because i've been thrust into a bigger community, more people to be compared to. ... Maybe I've led a sheltered life until now, and there really was no one better...
But there had to have been.
... Perhaps they've been lying to me all along. Perhaps I was never any good.
If that's the case, I'm rather disappointed in everyone I've always been in contact with. They've been cushioning me with words. And words will not slow or break the fall as readily as if I'd always known i'd fall. If I'd been ready, there wouldn't have been a fall at all.
Perhaps, then, I'm imaging all of this.
As far as my voice, I suppose it's not important to be past mediocrity.
I plan to go into something academically when it comes to profession... so... it doesn't matter if i'm not that good.
I need someone, I've realized today, to be completely and brutally honest with me, to tell me (with some kind of credential, some kind of learned opinion) exactly how much talent i have.
I need a realistic Simon. No Paulas. Because this doesn't have anything to do with my shoes.
I suppose this all stems from my insecurity, which I've only been made aware of by someone else's conscienciousness.
And they needn't worry - they're amazing.
I guess I'm done ranting.
Wait, no I'm not.
I've also decided that... I wish I had less of a heart. Mm.. maybe that's strong. I wish... I wish i could do without love. I wish i could sort of just put my feelings on standby until i had my hands free enough to deal with them.
Because they create a terribly bitter feeling in my stomach. My love will probably never be returned.
That doesn't mean, however, that I'm shallow enough to just give up an move on. I think that the ability to just randomly pick a new obsession over a person is disgusting.
I will continue to like him, but just not expect anything anymore.
Eh... good. Now I'm good and sulky.
~emma.
Insecurity is a funny thing. It is claimed by almost everyone. Some tend to wear it well, donning it only when they feel dumb being proud. Some people pull off pride well. And some look dumb donning pride.
There has to be some kind of line, some kind of space, somewhere healthy to occupy between the two.
Also, ...insecurity shouldn't be fabricated. Some people spend so much time just saying "How am I? How am I? How am I?" (redundantly, like that) simply to hear praise.
Sometimes i wonder if i'm subconsciously doing that, or doing it out of habit... or both.
But sometimes i really don't know.
I think i've been spoiled in that i've always been told i was good. I've always been led to think i had such a great voice.
But... I'm not so sure that's case. I mean, maybe because i've been thrust into a bigger community, more people to be compared to. ... Maybe I've led a sheltered life until now, and there really was no one better...
But there had to have been.
... Perhaps they've been lying to me all along. Perhaps I was never any good.
If that's the case, I'm rather disappointed in everyone I've always been in contact with. They've been cushioning me with words. And words will not slow or break the fall as readily as if I'd always known i'd fall. If I'd been ready, there wouldn't have been a fall at all.
Perhaps, then, I'm imaging all of this.
As far as my voice, I suppose it's not important to be past mediocrity.
I plan to go into something academically when it comes to profession... so... it doesn't matter if i'm not that good.
I need someone, I've realized today, to be completely and brutally honest with me, to tell me (with some kind of credential, some kind of learned opinion) exactly how much talent i have.
I need a realistic Simon. No Paulas. Because this doesn't have anything to do with my shoes.
I suppose this all stems from my insecurity, which I've only been made aware of by someone else's conscienciousness.
And they needn't worry - they're amazing.
I guess I'm done ranting.
Wait, no I'm not.
I've also decided that... I wish I had less of a heart. Mm.. maybe that's strong. I wish... I wish i could do without love. I wish i could sort of just put my feelings on standby until i had my hands free enough to deal with them.
Because they create a terribly bitter feeling in my stomach. My love will probably never be returned.
That doesn't mean, however, that I'm shallow enough to just give up an move on. I think that the ability to just randomly pick a new obsession over a person is disgusting.
I will continue to like him, but just not expect anything anymore.
Eh... good. Now I'm good and sulky.
~emma.
Wow that was really... depressing
Posted by
Anonymous |
9:14 PM