A Reflection Did Regenerate.
I'd love a holiday, from myself.
I'd love to be accepted, for myself.
I'd love a laugh, at myself.
I'm too often angry, with myself.
Why? Because I'm myself.
If I was a book, who would understand the content?
If I was the sky, who would look at me and be content?
If I was the flame of the brightest light,
Who would admire me in the darkest, blackest night?
Vacations from expectations and exasperated sensations,
Hesitations, salutations, gesticulations for appreciation.
This amalgamation of aggravation from over persuasion,
Foretells of my frustrations with the common civilization.
Another day another dollar,
Act cordial, stand up straight, don't speak crassly or improper!!
Speak your mind but don't show guile,
Be yourself but don't get hostile.
Endless rules filled with control and deceit,
I can't explain the obvious if it's seen as indiscreet.
What perplexes me the most is when others get verbose,
Over something so trivial and cite they feel evoked.
Irate I am,
But great I am,
Enervated I am but placated I am.
I'd love a holiday from myself,
A day, second, minute, hour where I didn't have to explain myself!
Just free to be myself,
A reflection did regenerate.
I just had a holiday with myself... not from myself. Thoughtful and insightful, having just spent the week on my own, with nothing other than my own thoughts and whatever I was reading at the time.
:)
the most (or maybe the only) interesting books are not the ones you can predict by reading the first few pages, dearie ...
the urge to be accepted and the fake-id of subculture for protection by anonimity in the group (the bigger whole ...) is a bit of a pusher to forget yourself, it's easier to take on the properties of the parent lol
So maybe you should just be yourself and use your smiles and fangs and teeth
and f-words any way you like ... at the end of the day that's less headaches than trying to be someone you're not, in my experience, at least, doesnt go for everyone
since i'm not everyone
i'm trying to be nobody, but right now i am nothing
being nobody takes money in this world :)
I struggle with being who I am, because (whether or not due to stigmatization of disability or otherwise) people don't accept what I say or do, out of misunderstanding or otherwise, and tell me that I should accept them and their way of life and disregard my own ideals and integral makeup. I find that hard to deal with, and I don't like the idea of anonymity where personal integrity and characteristics are concerned, especially in lieu of considering someone else's character and integrity in place of your own, without flaw, discomfort or otherwise issue. So it just makes me angry when I'm asked to accept that behavior, "as part of someone else".
I found the secret to part of that : "No matter what you say, there's always someone who'll take it wrong" So instead of trying to adjust every single syllable just let it come out, lol ... But in the current climate that's not always appreciated ... especially if you don't speak the right jargon for the current niche (and there's lots of those ...). Some american presidents fall to grammar mistakes in debates because they run out of arguments too and Nikola Tesla ended up poor because Edison was salesforce ...
humans ...
Of all the people ive been and still reside in my head i still don't know who i am but i know i'm somebody not some-thing ... :) i have no need to be something either ... so i'm just me.
I'm not flemish, or belgian , or white or whatever, or an -ist or a coder because i'm just me and as the main account went i understood a lot of people got that wrong because Kipling 'in the day' was normal and a great WHITE man (euphemistically speaking) or so ive been told but that's what happens when all you know is what you learned in school and saw on disney channel right. It's catling there, Rudyard (and the rude often seems to get extracted but i prefer 'blunt' , in the non-smoking sense) but in the end its the cat that walks by himself ...
not Kipling and im more of a schroedingers cat nest who doesn't know what's in the box until i open my mouth (jeezs there i go again haha)
probably posted this vid 10k times already but
my all-time favourite version of the story, not mowgli :D ... i'd put it somewhere close to Plato's cave but then i get picket fences and scholarly philospohers trying to burn me at the stake for sacrilege and heresy (again ... as if the dark ages weren't enough sigh) even if the very story states that perception is reality so the way i perceive the story is pretty much mostly relevant to me until explained (that's where Schroedinger comes in again)
yah yah , owwwww ... handbrake ....:D
at the end of the day less headaches after a while ... IF you can stand to not live in the eyes of others
all right, double handbrake .. maybe i should start a cult and have people give me all their wages and women, what do you think ,-)
(yea that's sick humour i know, but its still humour ... )
all that rage is fuel, doesn't just have to burn you out
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