We Are One.
Who Are You?
Parents.
Yourself.
Friends.
Siblings.
Peers.
Teachers.
Strangers.
They all affect the way you see yourself. Even if you don’t want them to, they do. You can try all you want to remain an individual, unique, march to the beat of your own drum, but they’ll still affect you.
You can run away from your parents, your siblings, your friends, your peers, your teachers and even strangers—you can never run away from yourself though. I’ve tried, oh how I’ve tried.
I’ve lost myself, surely I have, but I’ve never been able to lose myself completely to where I never know who I am at some point or another. A failure, a disappointment, a success, a loser, an asshole; there’s always a small part of something left behind to remind me just who I am.
Self-harm, self-destruction; razors, pills, needles, drugs, alcohol, making myself sick, starving myself—I’ve done it all. My name is not important, but my message is. I’m here to tell it to you now. I wish you would listen to what I have to say, take it in and ponder what I’m about to say.
There’s only myself to blame for the past mistakes I have made—no one but myself. Every scar that litters my body is a reminder of every hit, every punch, every kick, every tear, every fight, every word thrown at me in hatred—reminders of everything. I’m not perfect and I’ve never claimed to be—nor will I.
I’ve always heard to watch out for the quiet ones—it’s true. You should. They hear everything that goes on around them—everything. They hear the words said about them and the words said about others. They remain silent out of fear for some, for others out of sheer will—not bothering to get caught up in the affairs of their peers.
Are you really aware what part of your purpose is? Are you fully aware that you are the future of the world we live in? Do you even think about that at all? Does that even bother you, phase you even?
It does to me. It frightens me, especially with my peers. There are plenty of people in this great wide world; I’ve only been surrounded by so many for so long. The ones I’ve been surrounded by, I’m terrified of our future world.
The future is so uncertain—surely it’s planned, but only to an extent. We’re each capable of making our own choices and the choices we make now are what will effect us in the long run. Does that ever cross your mind when making a choice—the effects later down the road?
I’ve been guilty myself, of assuming what’s going to happen to so many of my peers once we’ve passed the high school mark—so far I’ve been right about most of them. The ones who are unmarried with three or four kids with another on the way, the ones who still live at home without the other parent of their child. The ones with both parents, neither are capable of handling jobs and children so something is neglected—most times the child.
I have been wrong though; some have actually realized they need to make something of themselves, make a difference, even if only for one other person. They’ve changed from the mindless lemmings our society makes of our peers into someone who knows what it is to fail, someone who knows what it is to succeed—someone who knows there’s more to life than what they’ve always just known.
I’ve heard the things said about me—the good and the bad. I’ve taken it all in, not always with stride, sometimes biting back, sometimes too personally. People can be cruel, there is no doubt about that but it’s all in our own reactions to what they say to us, what they do to us.
I won’t start a fight but I’ll defend myself—verbally or physically. I’ve even defended myself from myself. I’ve hated myself, I’ve loved myself, I’ve ignored myself, I’ve teased myself and unfortunately I’ve even hurt myself.
Teased. Ignored. Alone. Forgotten. Hit. Shoved. Yelled at. Screamed at. Kicked. Spit on. I’ve been hurt by others as well. There’s always going to be one person who finds it their goal to make life hell for others—just as there’s always going to be one person who’s there to pick up all the pieces.
I won’t pretend life is perfect, it’s too far un-perfect to even remotely pretend it is. I will though, keep my head high, despite the times when I am alone, when I am down—at my lowest—because I will not let everyone get to me anymore—even myself.
I’m tired of running, I’m tired of pretending, I’m tired of faking, I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of hurting and I know I’m the only one who can change anything—even if all I have to do is change myself.
Yourself.
Friends.
Siblings.
Peers.
Teachers.
Strangers.
They all affect the way you see yourself. Even if you don’t want them to, they do. You can try all you want to remain an individual, unique, march to the beat of your own drum, but they’ll still affect you.
You can run away from your parents, your siblings, your friends, your peers, your teachers and even strangers—you can never run away from yourself though. I’ve tried, oh how I’ve tried.
I’ve lost myself, surely I have, but I’ve never been able to lose myself completely to where I never know who I am at some point or another. A failure, a disappointment, a success, a loser, an asshole; there’s always a small part of something left behind to remind me just who I am.
Self-harm, self-destruction; razors, pills, needles, drugs, alcohol, making myself sick, starving myself—I’ve done it all. My name is not important, but my message is. I’m here to tell it to you now. I wish you would listen to what I have to say, take it in and ponder what I’m about to say.
There’s only myself to blame for the past mistakes I have made—no one but myself. Every scar that litters my body is a reminder of every hit, every punch, every kick, every tear, every fight, every word thrown at me in hatred—reminders of everything. I’m not perfect and I’ve never claimed to be—nor will I.
I’ve always heard to watch out for the quiet ones—it’s true. You should. They hear everything that goes on around them—everything. They hear the words said about them and the words said about others. They remain silent out of fear for some, for others out of sheer will—not bothering to get caught up in the affairs of their peers.
Are you really aware what part of your purpose is? Are you fully aware that you are the future of the world we live in? Do you even think about that at all? Does that even bother you, phase you even?
It does to me. It frightens me, especially with my peers. There are plenty of people in this great wide world; I’ve only been surrounded by so many for so long. The ones I’ve been surrounded by, I’m terrified of our future world.
The future is so uncertain—surely it’s planned, but only to an extent. We’re each capable of making our own choices and the choices we make now are what will effect us in the long run. Does that ever cross your mind when making a choice—the effects later down the road?
I’ve been guilty myself, of assuming what’s going to happen to so many of my peers once we’ve passed the high school mark—so far I’ve been right about most of them. The ones who are unmarried with three or four kids with another on the way, the ones who still live at home without the other parent of their child. The ones with both parents, neither are capable of handling jobs and children so something is neglected—most times the child.
I have been wrong though; some have actually realized they need to make something of themselves, make a difference, even if only for one other person. They’ve changed from the mindless lemmings our society makes of our peers into someone who knows what it is to fail, someone who knows what it is to succeed—someone who knows there’s more to life than what they’ve always just known.
I’ve heard the things said about me—the good and the bad. I’ve taken it all in, not always with stride, sometimes biting back, sometimes too personally. People can be cruel, there is no doubt about that but it’s all in our own reactions to what they say to us, what they do to us.
I won’t start a fight but I’ll defend myself—verbally or physically. I’ve even defended myself from myself. I’ve hated myself, I’ve loved myself, I’ve ignored myself, I’ve teased myself and unfortunately I’ve even hurt myself.
Teased. Ignored. Alone. Forgotten. Hit. Shoved. Yelled at. Screamed at. Kicked. Spit on. I’ve been hurt by others as well. There’s always going to be one person who finds it their goal to make life hell for others—just as there’s always going to be one person who’s there to pick up all the pieces.
I won’t pretend life is perfect, it’s too far un-perfect to even remotely pretend it is. I will though, keep my head high, despite the times when I am alone, when I am down—at my lowest—because I will not let everyone get to me anymore—even myself.
I’m tired of running, I’m tired of pretending, I’m tired of faking, I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of hurting and I know I’m the only one who can change anything—even if all I have to do is change myself.