idk who i am. i think that i have an idea, a rough draft even. but the concept of Me is ambiguous at best and a disguise at worst. choice paralysis is an ever present reality in my life. yes and no is not sufficient, there has to be a yes but, no yet, yes however, and i grasp at straws to articulate my inner desires. being me is not simply a what i want, but rather, what i want that fits in a mold that everyone wants; without seeming like i want to fit in a mold. pinterest boards for cookie cutter ideas that satiate my need to fit in; to neatly fold myself to archetype. but to be an archetype is to let go of you and embrace someone else’s me.
judgement, despite how clique and immature the fear is, eats at me. i want your eyes on me, but not so focused you can see my ALL flaws. i want my flaws to flawlessly remind you of my humanity. i want my crooked smoke stained teeth in view, but nevermind the black cavity that’s filling fell out while flossing. i want my alien appendage arms to mesmerize you, but ignore the fingernails, chipped and broken, from late night driving trying desperately to stay awake. i want me to be art, but art for everyone.
if me isn’t me but just a mirror of what you want, then so be it. but maybe i should be an audience member too. it’s loudest critic, but fiercest supporter
Mud Blog 