They’ll take your freedom in any way they can. They’ll tear out your tongue. They’ll break your heart. You can find a sense of romance in almost anything; but not that. People judge, and people will call you out on things you haven’t done. Things you haven’t said. Do it back, they say. But you can’t. You’re not a cruel person. You’re sensitive and you hate yourself for it. You can hate yourself for so many reasons, this is one of them. But it’s okay because at least you don’t lie to yourself. Kid yourself and spiral into a frenzy of lies; that’s what most do. I’d rather be honest with myself than be a judgemental cunt. This is all for a reason. I have a point.
Monday night, I went out. I’m wishing I hadn’t because since then I’m carrying a feeling I cannot get rid of, and it’s starting to get to me. I’d rather write this down than do the normal thing of telling someone face to face or whatever. Anyway.
I’ll be the first to admit my face isn’t all that. I wear black all the time (I have a pair of red creepers, a red Sonic Youth shirt and a red Iggy Pop shirt..I don’t really wear them.) Just because I wear black all the time doesn’t mean I am going to stab you and offer your heart as some kind of sacrifice. I notice nothing when I go outside, I just put my headphones in and walk. I look at the ground or whatever because over here, eye contact isn’t good. Eye contact, I have learnt is never good. If I look at you when I talk to you it’s probably because I probably think you’re alright. I’m getting better. For a while I’ve been working on the whole self-confidence thing. You know how you get people who do the whole “OH FUCK ME I AM SO VILE TODAY JUST LOOK AT ME” and take about 50 photos of themselves (they do it on a camera phone and probably use Instagram too) and just want attention? Physically, I dislike myself a hell of a lot. I’m fat, short and my face is unfortunate. I’ve re-joined the gym so at least I can stop being a chubber. As a person, I like to think I have some positive traits. My Bob Dylan impression is a treat (can only do it if I’ve had whiskey) and my hugs are alright. Despite the fact that I probably look like a moody twat, I laugh at most things (obviously not at racist jokes and the like, I’m not a cunt.) I’m a lot of good thing, I’m a lot of bad things. I know what I am, no one else has the right to judge.
So, on Monday as I was leaving this bar with some friends I walked past a tabel of about 4 or 5. I didn’t look at them, but I knew they were there. I’m oblivious to most things, but for some reason my ears actually picked up on what was said.
Wow..cheers for that. Do you feel better for that? I hope you did. I really do. I get weird looks ALL the fucking time here. All the time. I only leave the house if I have to. I go to the gym every day, but I walk there and where I live is quiet so I don’t really have to walk past anyone. Going to town for me, is my idea of hell. I hate it. I hate leaving the house.
When I’m in England I’m totally fine. I can walk around London or Manchester at 3am and feel completely safe. Here? Not at all. Not in the slightest. At 25 years old, you’d think I’d be alright with going outside right? Wrong. It’s anywhere but here. Everyday I wake up and wish I was somewhere else. I can’t help but think I was really awful in my past life and this is payback. Never mind, right?
I’d rather live on the streets in a city I love than wake up here one more day. It’s doing more than crushing my soul; it’s destroying me as a person.
They say, “Keep trying.” But I am. Fuck me I am trying, but I get nothing. I’m heading nowhere fast.
I live somewhere that destroys me everyday. I used to be strong and okay with myself. That’s all going. This is why this is coming out.
It took a LOT for me to come out (my mum is so fucking liberal, so I’m blessed in that way) but it still scared me to do so. I know how hard it is to let that part of you, especially when you are from such a small-minded place. My mother always told me, “Be true to yourself and don’t live a lie.” I may act like I don’t listen to people, but that is something I carry with me. It’s hard to keep at it at the moment. I guess I just have to.
To judge someone based on how they look or sexuality or anything is the most pathetic thing in the world. Maybe I should’ve said something to this idiot, but I didn’t fancy being punched. I’ve been hit enough times in my life; I don’t really fancy it again. I cannot hit anyone. I could never bring myself to do it. I’d probably runaway crying. Sure I may be overly sensitive and I may take too much to heart; but at least I can feel. I’d rather be this way than totally numb.
It’ll take a while before I “get over” this, and to any of my friends I had a rant about this all too since..I am sorry. I apologise for most things but..yeah. Anyway. I cannot change what has happened. It’s just pissed me off that we live in a world where people think it is okay to be obnoxious and cruel.
One step forward and about fifty back.