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I don't like being pretty. It hides who I really am. People don't see me, they see someone else, someone I don't know. And the image they have of me is cheap and unreal. And they expect things from me, things that I don't really want. I don't want their definition of success, and as they see me trying less and less hard to achieve what they think I should be achieving, they try to push me, try to help me. But I don't want to go in their direction. A lot of the time people think I'm more than what I really am, and sometimes it's nice to be thought of that way. But for the most part it's just stressful and burdensome. When does my mask become my identity? Why isn't just being myself good enough? I'm too "pretty" to be myself, too "smart", too "nice", too whatever. And they talk about all my potential. When will I be too old to have potential? When will they cluck their tongues and politely refrain from mentioning anything so discouraging as potential in the past tense?
I'm damaged and broken inside, vapor and shadow for a soul, echoing words for sentience, cooling embers for passion. But you know, I'd rather find myself my own way, in my own timing, by my own means, than by anyone else's.
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Posted by yalith777 on 2008-06-09 03:19:02 | Rating: | Views: 44
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