be ok.

They never really tell us when were kids how fucked up life is and how complicated it will be. They tell us that theres happy and sad and that all things are possible if you work real hard. The sky is blue just because god decided so and reading the bible makes life easier. They say happiness is in your mind and that by putting positive thoughts and people in your life you'll be ok. I guess one day I opened my eyes a little wider than usual and took a step back. Right on canal street as everyone was whizzing by I just looked at how gray the sky was, stared blankly at some lady desperately trying to sell me a fake prada tote, and got pushed by new york city people doing new york city things. I'll tell you from now this isn't a post that i even feel like explaining. Ive done my fair share of venting and dreaming on this blog but not enough truth. Every morning I wake up and wonder if today my life will change or if something in me will come alive. Here i am in this city where so many people want to go. and though i am from Brooklyn Ive always thought of Manhattan as my safe place. Manhattan, where i can wear my platform creepers and zebra pants. the borough where i can believe. But i looked around one day and saw nothing here. Just stacks of places selling bongs, and studs where i once saw hope and rebellion. It's really scary shit when you hear your father decided to end his life. Everyday i think about it and everyday i think of myself. Sometimes I forget to hug people back when they reach out or feel a sense of panic when someone says I love you. Because i don't feel anything and I don't know how to respond. Sometimes i wonder if besides my family i care about anyone at all. I used to think people weren't good enough but now i see I'm just a difficult person and maybe that's the problem.

And it's that same feeling that makes me try and imagine my fathers last days in 1993. How he probably picked me up and felt only half of what he should feel. how he never thought for a second that he should leave me a letter. Or how he looked at my mom and wished she would do a little more or already knew she would deal. It makes it seem so easy and inevitable. Even with the depression cast aside I feel so bad for that man. Because I know what it feels like to exist and not live. How everything seems inevitable. How death seems so concrete compared to the abstract that is living. Numbness. I dont even know how he made it that far really. So never for a second think that everythings all cheerio because it's not. Ive been trying so hard to be ok. To get by and do what i must. Somewhere between optimistic and fair. "somewhere in the middle" but please don't think that things are said and done. because they never are for anybody.

Theres nothing i can say that I haven't already. because my life is the same and its average and that's just fine. But one thing that I can say Is sometimes in all honesty i wonder if im ever gonna be content. If I'm ever gonna care and if I'm ever gonna feel. I worry that no matter where i go or what I do I will always feel this fucking cloud on my mind. So I guess my mom asked me one day if i would have kids one day, joking around because i felt so awkward amongst a little boy simply running over to hug me. and i looked at her and said no because i don't. I do not ever want to make another one of myself or my father or his father. I'm sixteen and i decided that because I don't ever want someone to think the way i do or to question life as frequently as i do.

Theres no worries. I mean it when i say I'm fine and I'm ok. I really do. If i needed help i would surely paint in in bold words across this page but i don't. I'm just saying what Ive known for as long as i can remember. Some of us are just a little fucked up and a little broken just because. people like me are broken hearted without ever being in love. And that's just alright because life wouldn't be lifey without a little pessimism every now and then.