Just finished Luna. Amazing book. It's about being transgendered, but a lot of the themes apply to me. Being trapped in your own body. Hiding everything that might give you away. Mindfulness of who can/can't be trusted, who is too closed-minded, only opening up as a last resort.
I spend so much time hiding. So much time never showing my true colours.
I'm a multiple, dammit. I just want people to know. Is that so wrong?
Hate. I might die, from all the hate in me.
I feel everything. So I feel nothing.
I hate teenagers. I despise the sex and the drugs. I loathe the living.
I hurt. So much I want to say, can't even bear to speak aloud because it just sounds so insane. Things I've never told anyone. Not even the ones who love me.
I don't. I can't.
I hide.
Keep myself from the world. Everyone's happier that way.
Some day, be it soon or far off, I'll die. Perhaps that hate will die with me. I only have to hold it till then. I'll bury it deep. I'll put a smile on and keep going. It's how I get through most days.
I don't want people to see me as a cripple. We all go on. We all carry our own burdens.
Whatever.
I just.
I just want.
2 comments:
it's scary how much you sound like me.
hiding your true nature from people.
i either have split personality problems or as i call it, 3-faced.
my 'friends' call themselves 2-faced as they backstab eachother.
i don't back stab.
the whole school tells me their secrets cause they know i won't tell.
i am the teen daughter to my family trying to achieve good grades.
to my 'friends' i am the quiet weird kid who has surprising humour.
to public, i guess you could call me protective. i see a kid crying and it rips me apart because when i was a kid, it felt horrible to cry. i grew up though, years of bullying and being outcasted for being different can change people.
slowyl but surely through supposedly trusting people, i've grown taller and a little stronger.
my friend alice, she has problems of being bullied or judged, she trusts me not to judge her and stick up for her even if that makes people hate me even more. all i can say is that i stopped caring when i was seven.
you say you dream. i dream too.
i dream of saving the world, i dream of being understood and loved. i dream of belonging.
i accept my fate as the outcast or loner as i am called.
sorry if i wasted your time, sir.
I care, Sarah. You do matter.
And you're not alone.
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