confessions full of jack

sometimes i get the feeling that pessimism is not my natural state of being. it might be that it is easier to be the person everyone believes me to be. but then again everyone knows me a little differently...

confessions full of jack

i feel like running away whenever someone evokes emotion within me.
the shadows of reality - books, songs, photos, movies, paintings- are easier to handle.

confessions full of jack

i am very lucky; even through my darkest days there has always been someone to offer me kindness and affection. not that i have been smart enough to let them in most of the time, but i knew they were within my reach. 

i have been told i am so easily loved because i so easily love. i have several objections to that theory, but it is a theory i can live with; there are much worse things people have thought about me.

confessions full of jack

telling me to hurry up is like telling a cat to stop sleeping.

confessions full of jack

i have no problems with destroying my history if it will help me build a better future.

confessions full of jack

i love hooded capes; i own many hoodies. once i have proven my worth to myself (i don't have high expectations as you might assume, i merely want to be a functional, decent, consistent human being) i will acquire a hooded cape and use it as my winter coat. it will have a secret pocket for my personal stash of lollipops.

confessions full of jack

if i ever did commit suicide i certainly wouldn't leave a note;
i wouldn't kill myself if i had anything left to say.

confessions full of jack

i do not want my memory to be erased;
i simply want to be erased from the memories of others.

confessions full of jack

i'd rather struggle with the weight of reality than be comforted by temporary illusions.

confessions full of jack

i have forgotten how it is to keep a truthful journal. my honesty flares up and burns out between the letters of a single word. i am ever consistent in my reluctance to any kind of commitment; no story is totally mine, some are always borrowed. i got so used to hiding my truth from prying eyes that i became hidden from myself during the process. 

it was like a cry for help; last night deep in dreams i heard a woman say "i know you, i feel you; i don't understand why i can't see you."

confessions full of jack

i want to take a nap in a freshly dug grave.

confessions full of jack

i might let you convince me but i won't be fooled.

confessions full of jack

immortality does not sound appealing to me. on the contrary, i like the finite nature of life. most things are precious only because they'll eventually perish. 

only if my sisters became immortal and they demanded my company i would accept immortality. even then i would use all my powers to convince them to spare me from the burden of a neverending existence. but i doubt it would work, we three are used to share both the burden and the relief.

(i wish i had the courage to accept immortality in the name of romantic love, i do like the idea of spending eternity with your soulmate. i just do not think my soul can mate for that long.)

confessions full of jack

i barely can contain the laughter that pops in my belly when asked "what do you want in life?" as if they'd understand if i told them, as if they'd give it to me if they could. i bullshit an answer out and mirror the question back. that is the point anyway; it is their dreams not mine they want to talk about.

confessions full of jack

i am master of none...

confessions full of jack

i tell my best lies when i'm full of good intentions. any other time i don't even bother; any other time i choose honesty over mercy.

confessions full of jack

i usually don't eat dessert at the end of a meal; i prefer to make a meal out of it. and no, there is nothing strange about having chocolate pudding for breakfast.

confessions full of jack

i am wary of people who describe themselves;
i am weary of describing myself.

confessions full of jack

i lead a pretty sheltered life. the ideas i harbor do not feed on current events; they don't feed enough to blossom and have an impact. it is quite possible that i will never become a productive member of society.

i still hold on to a few hope crumbs. maybe i won't feel the need to be so self-absorbed for the rest of my life.

confessions full of jack

i have a to-do-list of the to-do-lists i need to make.