It's amazing how the simple act of walking downtown can calm me down. I can pretend to be anyone. A tourist far, far away from friends, family and the worries that come with them. Or a career woman walking to work after a stressful breakfast with potential clients. An intern wondering if she's good enough to make it in the field. Or.
Just me. No one harassing me. Not caring whether or not I'm being freezed out by everyone I care about. Whether or not I'm failing miserably in school, in family, in society and in life. Not having to ask the questions "Am I making the wrong choices? Is everything I do a big mistake? What do I have to do to finally be a little happy for once in my life?" And knowing, knowing that somewhere there's someone who actually gives a damn.
I'm sick of caring. I'm sick of worrying about the wrong things. I'm sick of giving a damn when you don't give a damn about me.
I kid myself when I think I'm first on anyone's list. I alienate. I push everyone away. But then again, no one pushes back.
It's amazing how the simple act of walking downtown can calm me down. I can pretend to be anyone. I can pretend to travel back in time to when I was insecure, to when I thought I was poetic when I was just idiotic, to when the world hated me but I'm okay, I hate me too.
What happended to the "new" me? I'm just fooling myself by thinking it was me that changed when really it was just a clever new way to push away by pulling reluctant victims closer and closer until I realize, well, I never really touched them. No contact. No memories except the ones planted by me. All of a sudden there's no one there and I'm left pulling on thin air.
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