Let Me Feel Something

All of the speeches and Saturday morning television programs promoting diversity and originality are right.
I am not here to tell you any different.
Being special and unique is beautiful.
And if you know you are your own person,
Follow what everyone suggests: be great, be kind, be who you are.
For some people the hard part is accepting who you are,
For others it’s finding who you are in the first place
And for some people, those two things lead to the same answer. I am no longer afraid of being different like I thought before-
I am scared that I am normal.
I am scared that I am so ordinary that no one will be able to love me.
For how can someone love me, if there is nothing that they can use to differentiate me from other girls.
How can someone love me, if I haven’t found a passion that tells people that I am capable of love.
How can someone love me, if there is nothing for them to love.
I am scared that I am normal.
There is nothing that my parents can boast about.
Good grades won’t work anymore- you need conversation starters now.
You need things that will impress others, things that will show them that you don’t spend all your time re-reading books and falling in love with characters on television shows and in rock bands.
So I fish through online options to help make myself less normal, My history browser consists of a list of activities and volunteer opportunities that I’m hoping I may have a chance at falling in love with.
Saying I love books, doesn’t make me special anymore because just about any other person can say the same thing.
Saying I love a certain colour and a certain type of food doesn’t matter because silly opinions like that always change.
I am normal.
I am ordinary.
And I am so, so afraid.
That this will be why, no one falls in love with me.

I dont know why
I refuse to shut my eyes,
I know that the dark
will always look the same.
and that darkness in the day,
and darkness in the night,
They are still equals.
I think I refuse to close them,
for fear that I am shutting
out the

I tried to go to sleep,
Because I was told you would dream.
But every time I tried,
All I saw was darkness.
I tried to go running,
Because I was told it cleared your head,
But every time I ran,
Self-consciousness ran beside me.
I tried to read a book,
I was told everything would dissolve around me,
But every page I read,
Turned glacial behind freezing tears.
I tried to hold someone.
I was told the feeling made worries disappear.
But every time I reached my arms forward,
I cried, because I found nobody there.

I told you
I would climb mountains,
Just to see your
Smile rise.
It was a treacherous,
Our lips met
In sunsets,
Smooth and
And delicate
If only we could stretch
This moment,
And live a top
This second.

There are days when the sun could not have been brighter,
And all I could long for was rain.
I called on thick clouds to come and blindfold my joints so they ached and seethed.
I stretched my fingers and hoped for dollops of fresh paint to fall and paint my garden green.
I hoped for tears to fall and give me an excuse to let myself do the same.
I wished cold air would sneak it’s way in to my ears and settle itself in my bones.
For sidewalks to turn black,
For darkness to overwhelm the city,
Leaving cars with headlights turned on and people with books in front of their windows.
There are days when the sun told me to smile,
And when I could not,
She continued smiling, like I was okay.
So I would wish for rain.
Melancholic rain that made me feel less alone,
And less small
And less sad because I knew someone else felt it too
And once I had pleaded for the comfort of the dark and the damp, I would whisper that
I am ready for rain to come and join me,
To come and find me being patronized beneath the sweating sun.
For a storm to come and save me.


the one thing that has stuck with me every day since my English teacher told me it in middle school is:

"When referring to someone, always say who they are before anything else about them, because being a person always comes first"

Instead of saying “the mentally ill man,” say “the man with a mental illness”

Putting someone’s characteristics (especially negative ones) before them is dehumanizing and rude. Don’t do it.

(via haleytodacheene)

If I had a thousand pardons,
I’d spend them all on you,
I’d ensure that all these words,
That escape my mouth,
Only speak the truth.

I look at my hands a lot lately.
By tomorrow’s time,
They could be gone.
I can not prove that by breakfast
I’ll have fingers to eat with, and hands to carry my books with
And fingers to dress myself with.
By tomorrow’s time,
I won’t know about the next tomorrow,
And so on.
So I look at my hands lately.
I didn’t notice how beautiful,
Hands are.
How marvellous and dexterous they are.
How the creases and the wrinkles are the work of a sketch
artist’s coal pencils and
How they move in swift, graceful leaps.
I look at my hands a lot lately,
Feel my pulse in my thumb and on my wrist,
Feel the vein that throbs beneath the skin of my palm.
For all I know,
The rhythm of it all may cease to thrive.
And then I will be nothing.
How scary it is to be nothing.
So I look at my hands a lot lately,
Sometimes to make sure they haven’t stopped living,
But mainly to marvel at the beauty,
Of something labeled simple and normal.
There isn’t anything normal,
About the thriving rhythm of my palm,
Of the blushing whites of my knuckles
And the mazes on my tips.
There is nothing normal in the ordinary.
They scream to be gazed upon,
To be marvelled and remembered.
I can not prove,
That by tomorrow’s time,
The things once thriving and beautiful
Will exist.

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(Source: cali4niadreaming, via florie-k)

I care if you like me.
I care if you refuse my handshake.
I care if you turn the other way when I talk.
I care if you forget to hold the door open.
I care when you don’t come to me for help with things I am really good at.
I care when you chose them over me.
I care when you look at me strangely, as if I have done something wrong.
I care if you disagree with everything I say, I know your just trying to aggravate me.
I care if you tell me I am lazy, or that I have done nothing with my time.
I care if you look away from me, as if my eyes weren’t there.
You must understand,
I care.
Little things have big effects on people like me.