I’ve been spending years trying to solve feelings that weren’t problems
When my only task is to dissolve them
And I tried to make peace with others to quell the war inside
And I went out of my way to look after people like a fucking lighthouse
Only, lighthouses don’t run all over the place now do they?
This winter, I’ve retreated into my shell. No signs, no manuals, no explanations, no concessions.
I’m ok with alienating people because I’m tired of always looking out for people who don’t take the time to decipher me.
Not that I need them to. But I’ve made peace with myself and I’d prefer my war-torn, 3rd world soul to a Beverly Hills circle.
I don’t blame no one. I fucked myself over. I chose to walk out on myself, to sacrifice myself to provide cushion for people’s asses so, you know, they won’t get butthurt. I chose to hold my truth back because I feared that people would not fuck with me anymore. Jokes on me because all those I’ve gone out of my way to please and keep around aren’t here today. They dipped, or we just drifted apart. I can’t sell my soul to a broke windowshopper. But see, that’s what experience is ; it’s your life’s resume. You love hard, you live hard, you live deep. You learn that life isn’t linear. It has different levels of depth to it. Most stick to the surface because that’s the path of least resistance. But the real stuff is buried deep down. To get through to it is a risky business. Darkness, dangers, daggers. You don’t know what’s going to hit you. You’re just winging it. But in the end it’s all worth it because what’s the point of sticking to safety and familiarity when no one is getting out of this alive? That’s like only tackling the exam questions whose answers are oneliners, and you skip those that require a paragraph or two,cuz fuck carpal tunnel amirite? 👌 Wrong.