ndslotesse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Painter of Words Dear Diary, "I'm just a teenage dirtybag, baby..." ~Wheatus You know what I just realized? (Whew, another one of May's fuckin' realizations get prepared to get another long droned out fuckin' explaination of life...) I've been told I was beautiful. I've been told I was crazy. I've been told that I was un-like anyone else they have ever met. BULLSHIT! I'm sorry but you have. You have met so many others like me. For all those normal people out there, there is one other who matches in a average way. Ever thought about that?! Huh!?!? Think about it. Hasn't someone told you that you were so 'different' frome everyone? That you were special and no one could ever compare to you because you re unique and complex? HAHA! I know they have. JUST TELL ME! TELL ME RIGHT NOW! ::hysterical laugh:: I know! I know they have told you that! I know they have. "...'cause it's always raining in my head."~Staind You know what is the worst part? ...It's believing them! Believing that you were different and special and unique. Whatever the fuck it was they said you were, you believed them! HAHA! You are so wrong. Because if you look closely there are a lot of people who have complex minds, who have complex intimate thoughts who can speak mellifluous words of passionate agonizing black and white truth. They are the same people who can paint pictures with words. You are not special in anyway because you can put forth profound words together anyone can do that. I realized that when soemone said I was profound, deep, honest, truthful, special...that they were wong. Their are millions of others just like me, who can paint pictures with words. It's funny how for at least one moment, you thought you were special in someway and then the harshness of reality always brings you down...because truth always conquers. It is not love or hate. It is truth. It is reality that always prevails. Because you are not a painter with words. You are the same as everyone else, in practically every single way. There is only a difference in your showing it, a difference in your acting compared to theirs. Ever thought that if you were the same as everyone else...that you thought you were special because you are a painter of words...that maybe the people who you thought were 'normal' or 'average' before are the special ones?... With care, 12:37 p.m. - 2002-12-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||