"Daddy is mad"

I have no words to describe my disappointment. In myself, mostly. If I could keep myself as far away from him, maybe I won't remember the way back. Then going our separate ways won't feel so bad. Because the closer I try to get to him, the more painful the burn of rejection is. Sadly, he doesn't understand. Even this when he reads it, is nothing but trash. 

Nothing pisses me off more than realizing something that is common sense known by most intelligent people...

Explode

What is it that I am looking for? Why can't I find contentment in this? What is so wrong with me? 

I want someone to tell me I'm okay, that I'm normal. That my crazy isn't crazy. That I'm just a dreamer and its okay to feel dissatisfied sometimes. I want someone to tell me I don't have to feel guilty. I want someone to tell me they love me the way I am. That my abnormal is normal. That I'm just a romantic and it's okay to feel crummy sometimes. 

What is it that I am looking for? There's no such thing as a perfect rainbow. What's so wrong with me?

That perfect note. That perfect ocean. That perfect embrace. That perfect sentence. That person strum. That perfect heart. 

I want to be good. What's so wrong with me?

I'm sorry

I go from starry-eyed to crestfallen in zero to sixty. It's exhausting. 

Lesson

"Many people turn away from me when they are exhausted. They associate me with duty and diligence, so they try to hide from my presence when they need a break from work. How this saddens me! As I spoke through my prophet Isaiah: in returning to me and resting in me you shall be saved; in quiet and trust shall be your strength." - Jesus Calling

Turn towards Him, not away. Why a concept!

R-tard

I hope to God, Jesus, Buddha, Joseph Smith, Santa, the Spaghetti Monster in the Sky, whoever and whatever - that I don't fuck this up. Because he means so much to me. Oh, and more importantly, because it's time to grow the fuck up. 

“Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.”

- Fyodor Dostoevsky